


The Handmaidens

by Elivra



Series: Eruriweek 2018 [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tudor Era, Can't say the same for the rest though, Eruriweek 2018, F/F, Femslash, GUYS GUYS I REMOVED THE NO SMUT TAG, Genderbending, Handmaidens, Softcore Porn, The Eruris are fab and consensual and gay af, The softest kind, Turns out lesbian sex falls within my comfort zone, Which shouldn't surprise me tbh, fem!eruri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-06-29 23:33:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15739572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elivra/pseuds/Elivra
Summary: Desperate for financial security, Liv Ackerman joins the Queen's Court as a handmaiden, where she tries to survive through the intrigue, the drama, the frills, and the fuss -all the while dealing with the fascinating Eliza Smith.Tudor(-ish) AU, Fem!EruriRated for SOFT PORN and the dubcon / non-con mess of societal principles in that era. And for swearing, of course.Written for Eruriweek 2018 : Days 3, 4, and 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys, this is so out of my comfort zone, you don't even know. This is the first femslash+genderbend AU I have ever written, and it is possibly the closest I have ever gotten to smut ~~without actually writing it~~.
> 
> I have tagged this as a Tudor AU, but only to make it easier to visualise this world. This happens in a fictional country, there are no actual Tudors or England or France or any of the real-life politics active in this era. I have used elements of mostly English, but also French and other European courts for inspiration.
> 
> Basically, this is not historically accurate. Nope. Consider yourself warned. :)
> 
> But hey, if you like some hot lesbian Eruri ~~almost-~~ porn, then you're in the right place.
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> Day 3: Enemies to Lovers
> 
> CW: Dubious consent (see end chapter notes for more details)

"Your Majesty."

Liv curtseyed low, as she had seen other noblewomen do so in the past. Her heart thundered in her chest and her palms were cold. She had to be careful. She had to make this count.

The grand woman stared at her impassively from her cushioned chair. Her mouth was a thin, prim line in her powdered face. “Rise, young lady.” She continued to stare and Liv struggled to rein in her defensive scowl. “It has been years since an Ackerman has been in court,” she stated. Liv simply waited, no response necessary. “I was yet a girl when your mother left court, but I remember her. Your looks resemble hers very much.”

Again, Liv hesitated, uncertain how to meet this statement. The other occupant of the room rustled her dress. “I hear she was a rare beauty, Majesty.”

“That she was,” the Queen nodded. Now, Liv knew what to say. “Your Majesty is too kind,” she murmured, eyeing the faded hem of her old gown.

The Queen grunted. Another moment of scrutiny passed before she asked, “Where did you say you found her, Eliza? In a hovel somewhere?”

This time her lips did curve into a scowl, but fortunately Liv had her head bent down and her reaction went unnoticed.

“Somewhere like that, Majesty,” the other woman said, and Liv could almost hear the smile in her voice. _That bitch._

Another grunt. Then, “Your mother's exit from the Court was not the most dignified, Lady Ackerman. I hope you are aware that the Court you are seeking to join may not be very accepting of you.”

Liv looked at the Lady to make sure her intent was clear on her face.“I am aware, You Majesty.”

“You still wish to serve me? You do not think anything of spreading the stain of your reputation to my own by associating with me and my ladies?”

Liv suddenly remembered her mother towards the end, lying thin and wasted on her dull mattress. _“You must pay heed to your words and actions, Levi, my darling. One wrong gesture, one misplaced word can mean the end of it all.” A long, hoarse cough. “It can mean death.”_

“I like to believe the reputation of my mother and that of mine are two very different things, Your Majesty,” Liv said slowly. “I hope to build mine on the steadfast service I intend on devoting to you.”

The Queen grunted again, but this time, there was a hint of a smile in the corners of her mouth. “You have your mother's talent for confidence, at any rate.”

Liv simply bowed again.

“Very well.” The Queen was suddenly brisk. “Oh, those rags are giving me a headache! Eliza, if you will?”

The handmaiden stepped forward and came to stand right in front of Liv, so close that she almost took a step back. But before she could ask her to move away, the woman reached for her stays and began to unbind them.

_What the-_

Liv's hands moved like lightning, but the other woman was fast, too. She grabbed Liv's wrists and shook her head ever so imperceptibly. Liv glared at her, opened her mouth but the woman's finger was immediately on her lips, her blue eyes firm and solemn.

Shame coloured Liv's cheeks and she almost slapped the woman away, almost turned heel then and there to leave this madhouse forever. But her mother's withered face swam in her mind. This was what she was supposed to do. More than one life was depending on her success in Court.

Swallowing her anger, Liv lowered her hands. The other woman gave her a fleeting smile before stripping away her bodice. Her hands curled into fists, and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end as the other woman stripped each layer of her heavy gown off her. The woman was tall, so she blocked Liv's view of the seated Queen and she couldn't tell what expression the mad royal was sporting. Then again, the Queen could not see the ill-disguised fury on Liv's face, so she supposed she ought to be grateful.

She was not. How could she, when she was being treated so casually without question, as if she were a doll to be dressed and undressed as one pleased? It took everything Liv had to hold back her furious fists, her violent words.

She was hoping she would be left in her chemisier, but had no such luck. Without hesitation, the tall handmaiden untied the strings at her collar, and slipped her innermost smock off her shoulders and down her hips.

And she was completely bare. The handmaiden made to step back, but paused. Then, very gently, she took both of Liv's clenched fists in her hands -Liv flinched at the touch of her calloused fingers -and meshed them together. Now, all of Liv's rage was hidden. Everything else was bared to the Queen.

The Queen slipped off her seat and the handmaiden hurried to offer her arm in support. Liv tried not to stare -there had been no public pronouncement of any sort, but it was clear the Queen was with child.

The Lady herself had no qualms about staring. She took a slow turn about the room, her gaze fixed on Liv, who stood alone in the centre of the draughty room, gripping her own hands tightly.

“Hmm. Not so delicate-looking, is she?” The Queen muttered. “A lovely complexion,” she added, “but quite ruined by the sun. Why, look, her back is patchy!”

Liv felt a sudden finger poke her beneath her shoulder blades, and forced herself to stay still, her nails cutting into her palms.

“Nothing some care in the Palace won't remove, Your Majesty,” the other woman murmured. Another grunt, and as the Queen rounded about her left side, she poked her again on her arm. “What is this? A gift from a lover, eh?”

The bruise on her arm twinged sharply, and Liv swallowed hard before replying. “No, Your Majesty. It was an accident. From a… farming implement.”

The Queen looked at her as if she didn't believe her. “Make sure not to be marked so obviously next time.”

“There shan't be-” Liv's words cut off when she noticed the stony look on the other woman’s face. “I… yes, Majesty.”

The Queen finally came to stand in front of her. “Lady Lynne left quite a few of her gowns behind when she left to live with her husband in the country. You can have them, provided you are able to fit them to yourself suitably well.” Her beady eyes roamed over Liv's face. “I cannot abide sloppiness.”

It felt ridiculous doing it without the added sweep of a skirt; nevertheless Liv curtseyed. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

The Queen grunted again. “Welcome to Court, Lady Ackerman.” And with an abrupt nod, she said impatiently, “you may go.”

Liv curtseyed again, then picked up her chemisier off the floor. But before she could put it on, the other woman slipped her hand onto the small of Liv's back and began to push her away. “Outside,” she said curtly, rapidly picking up Liv's garments and thrusting them into Liv's hands.

Liv flushed with anger again. “What -”

“Outside, Lady Ackerman,” the lady intoned, as imperiously as if she were the Queen herself. Before she knew it, Liv was being shoved out of the Queen’s receiving rooms, the doors slamming shut loudly behind her.

Struggling to ignore the guards’ curious leers, Liv slipped on her chemisier and ran to the handmaidens’ quarters.

*

* * *

 

“I am decided. I shall wear my yellow silk!” Isabel said dreamily, watching Liv rip out the old set of stitches down a sleeve. Lady Lynne had been taller and of a slimmer build than Liv, except at the hips, thus requiring Liv to spend most of her free time altering the gowns allotted to her. She wasn't particularly surprised. She had always been shorter than most women, and her arms and thighs were muscled from years of farm work.

“Wear what you like, I don't care,” she mumbled crossly. Isabel stared at her.

“How can you not? The Countess will not be present and the King, not to mention other nobles, will surely have an eye out for the prettiest of all the handmaidens, and we _must_ look our best.”

Liv rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by a familiar voice. “Is this what you intend to wear to the feast, Lady Ackerman?”

Liv bit back a harsh reply. “What difference is it to you, Smith?” She looked up and there she stood, smiling that high-and-mighty smile of hers, her blue eyes gleaming.

“None at all, as a matter of fact,” Lady Smith said coolly. “Except that green is not really your colour.”

“I didn't ask for your advice.”

“Consider it a favour, then, since you seem to be in desperate need of it,” said she, smirking.

Liv's nostrils flared. “Why, you -”

“Careful now,” Lady Smith drawled, glancing behind her where the Queen was overseeing embroidery being done by some other handmaidens. “Your brash manners do you no credit in this place, _Lady_ Ackerman.”

She swept away before Liv could come up with a fitting reply. Seething, she turned back to the pale green dress. “What a cunt,” she mumbled under her breath.

But Isabel heard and she gasped loudly, though she looked delighted and admonished her merrily, “Oh, you must watch your tongue, Liv!” Lady Isabel Magnolia had taken to Liv on her very first day as a handmaiden, when she heard Liv telling a certain Lady Lobov right to her face to 'stop being such a gloomy wench’. She had then and there decided to make herself Liv's guide into the handmaidens’ world. Liv did not mind, for despite her chatty nature, Isabel seemed a sweet girl and often laughed with Liv about the same things.

Presently, Liv held back her unladylike shrug, glaring at Lady Eliza Smith's retreating back. “What is her problem, anyway?”

“I think she's just jealous,” Isabel whispered maliciously. “You are easily as attractive as her, _and_ I hear she is to wear green to the feast as well.”

Liv ignored the latter half of her statement. “I am _nothing_ like her.”

“That,” Isabel said wisely, “I think, is her problem.”

Liv was indeed not fated to wear her green dress to the feast. While the ladies were parading their chosen gowns to the Queen the evening before the feast, Lady Stanford ‘accidentally’ spilled candle grease on the train of Liv’s gown. The girl was tearful in her apologies, and Liv forgave her easily, because she had seen the true perpetrator -Lady Smith, barely hiding her glee as she stood behind the crying girl. Liv wished she had her knives about her.

But this was not a world of fists and knives. It was a world of whispers and gossip, of secrets and reputations. In any case, she had no proof of Lady Smith’s involvement, and so, she stayed up all night to alter another ballgown for herself.

*

* * *

 

It was at the feast that the true consequences of Lady Smith’s actions made sense to Liv. The woman _was_ wearing green -a lovely, shimmering sea-foam green dress bedecked with pearls. She looked magnificent, outshone only by the Queen in her finery. It surprised no one when the King partnered her for half the dances. Liv, as the Queen’s newest handmaiden, was granted a dance with the King as well. As she had expected, her basic beige gown barely caught anyone’s attention, especially not the King’s, who had his eyes trained on Lady Smith even as his palms pressed on Liv’s. 

That night -or rather, early next morning -when they retired to their quarters, Isabel decided she needed cheering up.

“It’s quite alright, you know. Hardly any of us gets noticed in our first ball.”

“I don’t care, Isabel,” Liv grumbled for what felt like the hundredth time. She was trying very hard to ignore Lady Smith’s empty bed.

“But you should!” Isabel snapped. “Don’t you see? It is important to be _noticed_ at Court, Liv. Why do you think Lady Lynne was sent home?”

Liv frowned. “I thought she had to keep house for her husband-”

“Oh, pish!” Isabel said scornfully. “Had she the Queen’s favour, she wouldn’t have needed to return to her husband’s seat. She could have paid someone to keep house for him. No, I _heard_ the Queen say Lady Lynne was-” Here Isabel swallowed hard, as if it was a difficult thing to say -” _dull_. We are not meant to be dull, Liv. That is not our purpose.”

Liv thought back to the feast, to Lady Eliza Smith and her long, graceful fingers clasped around the King’s hands, the merry glint of her blue, blue eyes, the playful smirk of her full lips directed straight at Liv who stood in the sidelines.

 _Cunt_ , she thought to herself angrily.

*

* * *

 

Lady Smith’s fortune was on the rise. Liv grew accustomed to the number of times the woman withdrew to bed early, when it was an open secret that it was not her own bed she really went to. At first, Liv had been astounded by the casual manner in which this was treated, even by the Queen. She learnt from the other handmaidens that the Queen was actually relieved by the King’s choice -her antipathy for the King’s official Mistress, the Countess, was widely known.

“Do they-” Liv hesitated to finish her question as they strolled in the gardens one fine summer morning. The Queen was in confinement, and had taken a few select handmaidens with her. Lady Smith, despite being close to Queen, had been conspicuously left behind, and it did not need to be said that she had been made to stay for the King’s sake.

“Yes?” Lady Nan, one of the quieter ladies who Liv approved of, asked her patiently.

Liv looked across the extensive gardens to the other edge, where the King’s carriage stood outside the Countess’ quarters. “Do they not care for each other?”

Lady Nan followed her gaze. “Do you mean the King and Queen?”

Liv nodded.

“It might not seem like it,” Lady Nan said, after a moment’s introspection, “but I believe they do, in their own way.” She smiled at the look on Liv’s face. “You must not judge them from our limited perspective of their intimate moments apart. The Queen has given him three sons, perhaps a fourth soon, and the wealth and support of her birth kingdom. The King in return gives her utmost respect and everything her heart desires, including,” here she paused as if deciding whether to continue or not, “including, as I said, near-total freedom from… wifely duties.”

It took a minute for Liv to understand her meaning. “Why, is he that bad?”

Lady Nan burst into a fit of giggles. “Oh, no, I don’t believe so. No, the Queen simply does not enjoy activities of that nature.”

“And yet she has borne him three children!”

“Soon to be four,” Lady Nan reminded her smilingly. “That is her duty. Beyond that, she cares not for such tasks and the King presses her not.”

“And so the Countess?”

“And so the Countess,” Lady Nan affirmed. “And Lady Smith.”

And though it was a bright and sunny day, it felt like a cloud had passed over the sun, darkening Liv’s world. “Let us turn back,” she said shortly, and Lady Nan obliged.

*

* * *

 

Liv was the first one to hear, as she had been up late sewing. Gathering up her skirts, she ran out of the Queen’s quarters and across the floor to those of the King. Before she could take the final turn in the corridor, though, she ran into someone, who immediately grabbed her wrist to prevent her falling. She ought not to be surprised -it was Lady Smith, her mane of golden locks billowing about her shoulders, her dressing robes wrapped loosely around her.

“Late for a tryst, Lady Ackerman?” She smirked, though her eyes remained dim.

Liv took a breath to steady herself, and, pushing aside her anger, managed to state, “I just received the news -the Queen has given birth to a girl.”

“A daughter,” Lady Smith murmured, and a soft smile replaced her smirk. “The King will be pleased. He was hoping for one.”

“I thought he wanted sons,” Liv blurted before she could stop herself.

“He has three of those, and hoped he would have a pretty Princess to shower gifts on,” Lady Smith shrugged. “The Queen never disappoints him.”

Liv nodded awkwardly. “Well. I shall…”

“Yes, forgive me,” Lady Smith said softly. “I am keeping you.” Liv realised Lady Smith was still holding her wrist only when she let go, and with a tired nod, left her. For some reason, the skin there tingled for hours from the lingering touch of her rough hands.

*

* * *

 

Lady Smith had been right, the King _was_ ecstatic. Another feast was announced in the new Princess’ honour, to be held as soon as the Queen was able to attend. Until then, gifts were showered upon the members of Court, enabling Liv to, for the first time in her life, commission a silk gown for herself. The day that the court drapier visited was filled with excitement as the ladies fell over one another in trying to obtain the cloths they desired. Liv sat apart in a quiet corner, looking over fabrics with Lady Nan, watching Isabel's antics from a distance with much amusement.

“What do you think?” Lady Nan prodded her, and Liv looked at the swathe of pale yellow silk that she held up.

“It suits you,” Liv affirmed.

Lady Nan looked pleased and decided upon that fabric that very minute. Liv had a harder time choosing, uncertain if anything was too tame or too grand for someone of her standing.

“You certainly are taking your time, Lady Ackerman,” Lady Darlett commented with false concern. “Are these cloths not suited to _your_ standards?”

Liv bristled, but said nothing. Compared to Lady Smith, this woman was small fry and not worth her concern. And yet, when Liv looked up, her eyes immediately found the former lady, who was sitting back in another corner of the room -watching her. She acknowledged Liv's gaze with a small nod and another one of her familiar smirks.

Liv turned back to the silks displayed before her. A forest green roll caught her eye: it was a beautiful jaqcaurded material, muted and yet shining. An elegant fabric.

“This one,” said she firmly, and instantly looked up again. Lady Smith's smile had widened.

*

* * *

 

The King was off on a celebratory hunt, and insisted that some ladies of the Court accompany him and his men. Lady Smith was included, of course, and Isabel by virtue of being the Queen's cousin, and for being notorious for her love of horses. Lady Lobov, being one of the older, more established ladies, was added to the party 

“One more!” The King insisted jovially. “And then we shall have an even party.”

The Queen, still a little wan from her recent confinement, smiled across her ladies. “Who among you has experience with horses?”

Liv watched Isabel nearly bounce with excitement, and stood to curtsey. “I do, Your Majesty.”

And Liv was chosen to go.

*

* * *

 

Liv had wondered why more ladies had not clamoured to join the hunt. It soon became apparent to her that the King took his sport fairly seriously and those unused to the physical exertion of riding horseback on a hot summer's day were ill-suited to the activity. As she breathlessly kept pace with the hunting party, she smiled to herself when she imagined Lady Stanford or Lady Darlett with them. They would not have been able to keep up.

“Something amuses you, my Lady?” One of the men, a mere boy in her eyes, inquired of her. Memory provided his title as a Lord Church, and Liv shook her head demurely. “Only enjoying the fine weather, Sir.”

Lord Church grinned. “It is fine, indeed!”

“You appear to be enjoying yourself, Church,” one of the men grumbled, riding abreast of his steed. “Despite the fact that we have yet to bring down any game.”

“With such fine company, it is impossible to not enjoy oneself,” Lord Church said gallantly. The other man rolled his eyes and trotted away.

Liv had her eye on the King, who waited on his steed not far away, frowning in the absence of the baying of his hounds. Lady Smith and Lady Lobov hovered nearby, waiting for the King's cue. A sudden idea had struck Liv, but she hesitated. Dare she…?

She watched as Lady Lobov tried to cheer the King up in vain, Lady Smith watching her sullenly from behind her. Her mind suddenly made up, Liv directed her mare to the King's side.

“Your Majesty is impatient,” she said point-blank as she drew near. Lady Lobov threw her a horrified look, but she ignored her.

“Is that an accusation, Lady Ackerman?” The King asked her, turning his solemn gaze upon her.

Liv held her ground. “Merely an observation, Your Majesty,” she murmured, “made only with the intention of offering my support.”

To her relief, her words seemed to amuse him. “Oh? And how do you intend to 'support’ me in this sport?”

“I had a brother,” Liv forged ahead, “who was fond of hunting. He taught me a few things which I would be honoured to share with Your Majesty.”

The King began to smile. “Show me, then.”

Liv had never seen such a blank look on Lady Smith's face.

*

* * *

 

Liv rode on the high of her success for days following the hunt. The King began to acknowledge her presence every time he visited the Queen's rooms, and several ladies, including Lady Lobov and Lady Darlett, stopped speaking to her.

“You have done well,” Lady Nan congratulated her. “You are unknown no more.”

“I suppose that is a good thing,” Liv said cautiously, jabbing her embroidery with quick precision.

“Surely you jest, Liv!” Isabel cried, waving her own embroidery emphatically. “It is a _glorious_ thing!”

Liv's response to that was lost forever when a shadow fell across them. She looked up to find Lady Smith’s intense blue eyes focused on her.

“Lady Magnolia is correct,” said she pleasantly. “I must congratulate you, Lady Ackerman. You have played your strengths well.”

“You needn't sound so surprised,” Liv said glibly.

The response came pat. “How can I not, when you are such a surprising creature?”

Liv’s mind blanked, and Lady Smith's smile grew. She stepped away, but paused at the last moment, as though she had just remembered something. “By the by, what is this brother of yours called? I don't believe we have seen any Lord Ackermans around.”

Liv felt her throat go dry and her needle pierce her finger. She hissed in pain, but Lady Smith simply waited, all politeness. Even Isabel and Lady Nan were watching her curiously.

 _Curse her_. Liv took a deep breath and muttered, “His name was Levi.”

“Levi,” Lady Smith repeated softly, and Liv felt a shudder run down her spine. Lady Smith opened her mouth to say something else, but a sudden commotion distracted them all: the Queen had fainted.

*

* * *

 

All the ladies were jittery for the rest of the day, hoping and praying that Her Majesty would recover soon, that the illness was not severe. Liv pretended to pray with the rest, outwardly calm, but her mind in just as much turmoil. If the Queen died, there would be no more handmaidens in the palace, at least until a new Queen came forth. Liv was already making a mental list of all the things she could possibly get away with selling, when the King himself came to the quarters, and all the ladies curtseyed hastily 

He brought good news: the Queen was only weak, still suffering from the after effects of her confinement. All she needed was more rest to recover. Several ladies cried and held each other in glee, Lady Lobov and Lady Smith thanked the King graciously for delivering the news himself. Liv simply let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, and let her lips curve into a smile. Her eyes were on her lap, and when she looked up, she was surprised to find the King looking at her. She let her smile widen and bowed her head slowly. The King nodded, turned on his heel, and walked away.

This little exchange of sorts had barely taken two seconds, but it had caught the eye of several women in the room. For some reason, they all looked solemn, even Isabel and Lady Nan. Liv hardly knew what to think of it.

She understood better when, late that evening, one of the King’s pages arrived with a message for Liv: she was to wait on him in his bedchambers later that evening.

*

* * *

 

Liv untied her robes shakily and let them slip off her to the floor. For a moment or two she stood still, letting the cold air brush her flushed skin. Then, still shakily, she reached for her washcloth.

Her heart was yet fluttering in her chest and a scream was strangled in her throat. She felt filthy, soiled-

“Disgusting,” she rasped, swiping at the dried fluid on her abdomen.

She cleaned herself slowly, methodically, examining her body with clinical precision. She rubbed hard at the marks on her chest, her hips, the insides of her thighs. Marks left by a man more than twice her age, a man (supposedly) happily married to the woman whom she served. She knew she bruised easily, so it probably looked worse than it actually was. But that, of course, wasn't really the problem.

Dawn was breaking beyond the windows, and a faint glimmer buried in the heap of her clothes caught her eye. She remembered the King's fond voice as he gave her what he carelessly termed a mere trinket. She extracted the shimmering brooch from the folds of her robes: this little 'trinket’ could easily feed her family and run her farm for a whole year. She imagined the wealth that would surely come her way now, more trinkets and money bags given to her as 'gifts’.

The rubies in her brooch matched the dull shine of her bruises. She thought of her mother, of the bruises she had tried to hide, of the paltry coins she got in return for hers. She thought of little Kass, pale-skinned and dark haired like her, with more bruises, perhaps, in her turn.

Her fingers fisted around the brooch, the fire inside her kindled again, and Liv made a new vow to herself. As long she lived, God help her, her sister would not step a mile within the vicinity of this wretched Court.

*

* * *

 

Liv did not know if she was more relieved or concerned when it became apparent that she had not replaced Lady Smith’s standing with the King -far from it, as a matter of fact. He called for one or the other as his mood dictated, sometimes daily, sometimes no one for nigh on a week 

“The Countess and the Queen are both ill. Otherwise he is not always so demanding,” Lady Nan said consolingly, as Liv struggled to stay awake one afternoon.

“He is the King, he can demand whatever he likes,” Liv said crossly. The doors of the entertaining room had opened and Lady Smith had walked in. With a small grimace, Liv set about her errand.

The previous night, the King had given her two trinkets instead of one, and explained that the comb was not a gift, but in fact belonged to Lady Smith, and bade Liv return it to her.

When she had pursed her lips with ill-disguised annoyance, the King had laughed. “Does it anger you, Little One?”

She had long since habituated herself to the disgusting term of endearment. Holding back her furious declamation of not being a page boy, she had simply said, “It is not like her to be so forgetful.”

The King had then chosen to reveal slyly, “She asked me to give it to you, as a matter of fact.”

Liv's nostrils had flared with the force of her fury. “That does not surprise me.”

The King had laughed again, looking delighted. “Oh, how entertaining! Your little squabbles over me amuse me to no end. How simple and inconsequential your little world is!”

Liv had remembered her mother again. _“It can mean death.”_

The King had sighed, oblivious. “You must not take it to heart, my sweet. My favour rests not with one person and there is enough of it to go around.”

“You are very magnanimous,” Liv had muttered. Her insolence was one of the things that made the King enamoured of her, and so the King had laughed again.

Presently, Liv strode up to Lady Smith and thrust the enamel comb at her surprised hands without a word. But the other woman, of course, had to have her say.

“How very kind of you, Lady Ackerman. Thank you.”

There was a mocking edge to that tone, and Liv bristled at it. She glared up at the annoyingly tall woman, and snapped, “Be careful not leave your precious things around. Someone may come snatch them up, and then they will be lost to you forever.”

She whipped around and walked away, but not before she had seen the wide smile on the bitch's face.

*

* * *

 

Ten days of rest later, the Queen was deemed well enough to return to courtly duties. The promised feast was fixed to be a week hence, and the Queen's Court was sent into a flurry of activity. Two days before the feast was to take place, the Queen was given a whole day of dress-parading, as it was known in her circle.

Just like on Liv's first meeting with her, the Queen took turns choosing a handmaiden to parade dresses for her, dressing and undressing multiple times on her orders amidst the rapt attention of the rest of the women. Liv hung back by the windows, repulsed by the display. The other ladies were clearly used to this, and did not seem the slightest bit concerned.

She watched as a shy Lady Nan stepped up, dressed in her yellow silk, and was immediately pronounced to be perfect.

“I do wish you had dressed in rags so I could dress you in this myself,” the Queen said smilingly.

Lady Nan simply blushed and thanked the Queen for her compliment. Liv grit her teeth and looked out the window, hoping her face was not revealing her true opinion on this activity.

“You do not approve, Lady Ackerman?”

 _Blast._ The last woman she wanted stood by her side. Lady Smith was smiling, and, despite close scrutiny, did not seem to show any malice.

“My opinion does not matter,” Liv managed.

Lady Smith chuckled. “How very true. It is what I tell myself every time this happens.”

Liv stared at her. “You certainly didn't seem to mind when it was my turn on that day.”

“That is also true,” Lady Smith said thoughtfully. “I did not.”

Liv did not know what to say to that, and was saved by Isabel, who came to tell her that she thought Lady Darlett's gown was very stupid, indeed.

*

* * *

 

Her escape from the parading was granted to her, but it came at the price of visiting the King that night. She returned to her quarters in the small hours of the morning, the darkest part of the day before dawn, and immediately set about her cleansing ritual, as usual. 

Until an interruption appeared with a small knock on the doorframe. Liv whipped around, clutching the washcloth to her chest in a vain attempt at modesty, and felt fury prick in her at the sight of Lady Smith.

“What do you want?” She snarled. This was no time for any pretense of civility.

Lady Smith appeared unruffled. “Forgive my presumption, but I believe this would be of use to you.”

She was holding a small porcelain pot. When no explanation was forthcoming, Liv snapped, “What is it?”

“Ah. I thought you knew. It is a salve, for wounds and bruises. It prevents scarring.”

Liv's hands reflexively went to the finger marks on her waist. “Why are you helping me?”

Lady Smith's eyes were fixed on the marks on her chest. “The Queen may be accommodating, but even she will not appreciate such obvious displays of her husband's proclivities.” She took a step forward, and, with the lightest brush of her fingertip, touched Liv's collarbone. “This was showing today.”

Liv felt her cheeks flush; she snatched the jar from her other hand, and said pointedly, “Thank you.”

Lady Smith smiled her habitual smirk. “Good night, Lady Ackerman,” she said softly, and left her, alone and confused.

*

* * *

 

Liv rather thought the Queen _had_ noticed the mark on her neck, which was why she deemed her glorious green dress not suitable for the feast and ordered her to choose something else. Having learnt her lesson from the previous ball, Liv already had a spare waiting. There was no time to parade it, with the Queen being too busy and not having mentioned any preference for the replacement in any case. And so, Liv wore scarlet silk to the feast.

It was a rousing success. Heads turned to scrutinise her, and she received several compliments from strangers and acquaintances alike. After a lifetime of living in the shadows, this sort of attention felt new and nerve wracking, but Liv managed to maintain her composure. If anything, keeping her feelings in check was something she needed no introduction to.

“You look ravishing, my dear,” Lady Nan exclaimed, pressing her hands warmly. And though Liv thought herself above such nonsense, she could not help being pleased and thanked her demurely. She smiled when Isabel came tumbling over, narrating every moment of the dance she had just been a part of.

The handmaidens were more or less arrayed around the Queen, so that eligible noblemen, after being appropriately enraptured by the Queen and the little Princess, could move on and admire the ladies in their best display. One older nobleman, who Liv learned later was the Queen’s uncle, waxed poetic about her Court, even pausing at the end when he beheld her and Lady Smith, both of whom were not far from Her Majesty.

“An exquisite pair, the two of you,” said he, bowing over their hands, “like fire and ice.”

His comment was met with an approving nod from the Queen and loud agreement from the King. Lady Smith gave him a coquettish giggle, while Liv managed to smile pleasantly at him. The old nobleman moved on, Lady Smith was practically preening, and Liv discreetly downed her wine cup.

The rest of the night progressed in a haze. Liv was aware of endless wine, endless food, endless music, and endless dancing. She was aware of Isabel twirling her around laughingly, as though they were little girls. She was aware of Lady Smith’s hand on her back, pushing her along with her and milking their ‘fire and ice’ pairing for all it was worth. She was aware of the Queen retiring for the night and taking several ladies with her, but being pressed to stay back by the King himself. She was aware, finally, of being led to the King’s quarters by a familiar rough hand -familiar, and yet misplaced, as though it did not belong there, in her hand, in that moment.

*

* * *

 

Liv did not fall asleep. She had felt herself sober down in the King’s arms, and yet could not quite get rid of the haze in her mind completely. She waited until the King’s snores were the only sounds in the room before slipping off the giant bed. Quietly, she made her way to the window seat to get her clothes.

A sudden rustle made her freeze. Slowly, she turned around to see a blond head peeking out from under the myriad blankets.

_Ah, yes._

Lady Smith sat up slowly, languidly, and carefully lifted the King’s arm off her bare stomach. “What are you doing?” She asked, stretching shamelessly.

Liv turned away, heart racing. “Leaving.”

Another rustle made her look back and turn speechless with shock when she saw Lady Smith get to her feet, still stretching. “Stay,” she sighed, twisting her arms behind her back.

“No. You’ll wake him,” Liv hissed.

Lady Smith’s long legs carried her across the room in an instant. Towering over Liv, she murmured again, “Stay.” Her quiet, yet deep voice made goosebumps rise up all over Liv’s skin.

“Why?”

She flashed her a white grin, blue eyes gleaming in the moonlight, and suddenly, swiftly, swooped down and caught her lips in hers.

Every muscle in Liv’s body froze, every thought ground to a halt. Then she felt her hand on her hip and - she was _burning_. Fire consumed her every pore. Moving without thought, without consideration, without even a hint of hesitation, Liv reached up, twined her arms around her neck and pulled her closer. She moaned into her mouth and Liv caught it with her tongue - and she was pushing and biting and sucking with her mouth, but pulling her closer and closer with her hands until they were pressed together from shoulder to knee. The kiss was never-ending; they would part with a wet smack but immediately pounce on the other again, hands roving, bodies twisting, breaths heaving.

It felt like a blink of time, it felt like eternity when Eliza Smith pushed her back onto the window seat and leaned over her, still nipping at her raw lips. But Liv felt a sudden, fleeting hesitation, and Eliza stopped immediately.

“What is it?” She whispered, and _God_ , her husky voice nearly drove Liv over the edge again.

“I… I-” Liv struggled to breathe, struggled to put into words why she had hesitated. Eliza stared at her patiently, moonlight making a halo of gold and silver gleam about her head, her blue eyes deep enough to drown in. When Liv still said nothing, she murmured softly, “I will stop if you want me to.”

It was shocking how every inch of Liv seemed to scream _No!_ at that suggestion. _Think, Levi, think!_ -she scolded herself, and some inkling of sense returned to her. “Will -will he not wake?”

They briefly glanced over Eliza’s shoulder where the King still snored away happily. Eliza let out a sharp chuckle. “Not he. He does not handle his drink well.”

Liv stared at her, eyes widening. “Then…”

Eliza was grinning gleefully. “Then…?”

Liv buried her fingers into that glorious mane of hair and pulled her down, and simultaneously ground her hips up. “Then don’t stop,” she breathed into her groaning mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **CW:** If you have an idea of what "courtly life" in that era was supposed to be like, especially with the idea of the King taking mistresses/having flings, then I think you'll understand when I say I believe most of these scenarios to be "non-consensual" in a modern context. Liv goes to the King because she is commanded to, but her consent is not even considered, thus making her relations with the King of the non-consensual kind.
> 
>  **A/N:** Okay, so they're more like rivals to lovers, but it's close enough to the prompt I think?
> 
> The King and Queen are no one from canon. I don't think anyone from canon really fits my idea of what these two people are like, so yes, they are OC's.
> 
> I hope the change from scene to scene doesn't seem too choppy, or the characters too OOC. I have made a few changes to their personalities based on their situations -Liv and Eliza are both more talkative, more expressive than canon Levi and Erwin, but I hope they're not too far off from their canon selves!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 4: Hands
> 
> Check out the surprise below!
> 
> This is how I picture Liv Ackerman and Eliza Smith, though you better believe the height difference is bigger! ;)
> 
> I don’t know if you guys know of dollmaking sites, so, if you don’t, you absolutely have to go check them out! I often use them to help visualise my characters in a story, and while I normally keep those to myself, I couldn’t resist sharing this with all of you so that you could see Liv and Eliza the way I picture them!
> 
> I made the below “dolls” on a lovely “Tudor Scene Maker” developed by the insanely talented Ola at [Doll Divine](https://www.dolldivine.com/) and Azalea at [Azalea's Dress up Dolls](http://www.azaleasdolls.com/). You can find this dollmaker on both their websites. The doll features, clothes, and accessories, as well as the background, are all customisable. While I chose these appearances for these dolls, all art and creative credits go to these two lovely people, of course!

**FIRE AND ICE**

* * *

 

Liv had always known her desires were quite different from those of an average woman. She usually had very little inclination to be intimate with someone, but even when she did, it was never a man she ached for. Women being intimate together was not unheard of, but it was scandalous enough that most of these liaisons were on the sly. As such, Liv had had very little opportunity to explore these desires of hers, even when they did take hold of her. And then the night of the Princess’ feast happened, leaving her a reeling, confused mess, simultaneously regretting and revelling in the memories.

Lady Smith’s behaviour to her was completely unchanged after that night, and Liv was frankly relieved. As ( _insanely_ ) good as their tryst had been, Liv knew both had too much on the line to risk on a sordid affair. It was sensible of them to continue interacting as if nothing had happened.

She lasted a week.

Exactly a week had passed since the feast and Liv found herself tossing and turning in her bed, unable to sleep, restless for some reason. Eventually, she gave up trying and got out of bed, careful to avoid waking the other sleeping women in the room. The Queen's receiving room had some books, some pieces of embroidery that she could occupy herself with. With this in mind, she made her way there, only to find someone sewing something by the fireplace.

The smooth waves of Eliza Smith's blonde hair gleamed as she looked up, and a wide smile graced her features. “Unable to sleep?”

“No,” Liv said shortly, the restlessness in her peaking until she felt like she wanted to run for miles and miles. “What are you doing?”

“There was a tear in this dress that I only noticed when I set it aside for tomorrow.”

“Hmm.” She approached her briskly. “Sounds plausible enough.”

Eliza was already putting aside the damaged dress. “Plausible?”

Liv bent down and straddled her lap without a word. Eliza's hands were already on her hips. “Yes. Plausible.” She rested one hand on her shoulder, brushed her lower lip lightly with the other. Eliza closed her eyes and pressed a kiss on her fingers. Liv's other hand moved and she tangled her fingers into those golden locks she couldn't seem to stop touching. Eliza let out a low hum of approval, and over her racing heart and thrumming nerves, Liv smirked.

“Miss me?” She muttered. Eliza grinned at her around her fingers at her mouth. “More than you know,” she breathed.

Liv replaced her fingers with her lips.

*

* * *

 

The King and his courtiers were paying the Queen's Court a visit. The ladies were at their charming best, and the noblemen were just as gallant. The royal bard was composing impromptu songs about the Queen in front of a rapt audience. Liv sat near the window with Isabel and Lord Church, who gravitated to Liv’s side everytime the men visited, ever since the hunt. Liv found, to her surprise, that she didn't mind. There were very few men she approved of, and she had grown to appreciate Lord Furlan Church's company.

“I come from a long line of horsebreeders and I do not believe you,” Lord Church announced presently.

“It's true!” Isabel insisted. “I learnt to ride a horse when I was three years old. Tell him, Liv!”

Liv pretended to be absorbed in her book. “I did not know you then, so I can tell him nothing.”

“Lady Ackerman is a woman of honour,” Lord Church said teasingly. “She will not be complicit in your lies.”

Isabel glared at him. “We shall see who is lying on the next hunt, then! I wager my pearl bracelet you can’t go half as fast as I do-”

“Isabel,” Liv said curtly. The girl flushed and closed her mouth. She really needed to be kept in line sometimes.

Lord Church, however, was all smiles. “I am jesting, of course, my ladies. Worry not, Lady Magnolia, I believe in your horseriding skills.”

Isabel’s sour look melted away as if it was never there in the first place. “Your jokes are terrible, Lord Church.” she grinned. “You should consider abandoning your jesting pursuits along with your horseback ones.”

Lord Church gave vent to an amused snort. “How cruel! Your words wound me most painfully. Will you not defend me, Lady Ackerman?”

“As determined as the two of you seem to be in involving me in your arguments,” Liv said firmly, “I will have no part in it.”

“The lady will not deign to squabble with us!” Lord Church cried. “I do believe we have been snubbed most soundly, Lady Magnolia.”

“For sure! Liv is enormously good at snubbing people!” Isabel giggled.

“With those cutting eyes and that proud little nose, I am not surprised!” Lord Church cackled in his turn. The supremely annoyed look Liv threw them only seemed to set them off into more laughter. And though she maintained her gruff expression, Liv’s heart was light. Lord Church and Isabel were both young and guileless and merry, and she would be the last person in the world to deprive them of their well-meaning merriment, even if she had to be the subject of their sly jokes.

She stood up to fetch a different book, and was immediately stopped by Isabel. “Oh, Liv, don’t go! We were only teasing!”

Liv rolled her eyes. “It would take far more than your weak humour to drive me away, Isabel. I shall return in a minute.”

With this assurance, Liv first made her way to the little chamber outside the receiving room in order to wash her hands -one could never be too clean, after all. When she replaced the ewer and turned around to wipe her hands, the door opened and Lady Smith slipped inside.

Liv froze and they held each other’s gaze for a long minute. “Lady Ackerman,” Eliza Smith said in her low, pleasant voice. “I hope you are enjoying the gentlemen’s company.”

Liv squared her shoulders and prepared to leave. “Very much so. Excuse me, I am wanted outside.” She brushed past the woman, but not before feeling a lingering grasp of her hand on hers. It puzzled her, this curious new behaviour on Eliza Smith's part. She was thus distracted and took longer than usual in choosing a new book, and was unsurprised when she returned to the window to see another person sat in her place -an older noble whose name she could not quite remember at that moment. Isabel and Lord Church were still smiling, but they were dimmed now, polite and subdued.

“Oh, Liv, there you are!” Isabel cried. “Lord Lobov has been saying the most delightful things about the Feast!” There was an edge to her voice that Liv did not recognise.

“About the radiance of Lady Isabel in particular. She was the brightest jewel that evening,” the Lord said, bowing his head with false humility. Liv took in the stiff set of Isabel's shoulders and Lord Church's quiet courtesy, and almost frowned.

“More so than Her Majesty?” She enquired pointedly. The noble was quick to correct himself. “Oh, of course, it goes without saying that our Queen was the brightest gem of all! Lady Isabel was a close second,” he smiled again. Liv did not like that smile.

“You are too kind, Sir,” Isabel murmured, hands twisted together in her lap.

There was a small moment's silence, as if none of them were really certain about what to say. Almost in desperation, Liv held up her book. “I have fetched the poems you wanted to read, Isabel.”

Isabel's face brightened. “Oh! Thank you, Liv. I-” Here she hesitated, glancing nervously at each of their faces. “Would you read it to me?”

Liv never liked reading aloud, having not quite mastered the posh accent of most of the ladies of the Court. Nevertheless, for Isabel's sake, she murmured, “Certainly.”

Lord Lobov stayed for two poems, to her annoyance. He kept trying to capture Isabel's attention the whole time, but she affected being intensely interested in Liv’s clipped reading. Finally, he stood up, excused himself, and left -not before leaving a kiss on Isabel's hand.

Liv stopped mid-sentence and watched him join Lady Lobov in conversation.

“He is her brother,” Lord Church said quietly, following her gaze.

“I can see the family resemblance,” Liv muttered, eyeing the two of them with distaste. Isabel said nothing.

*

* * *

 

The Queen spent the following weekend in the Princess’ Palace*, and so Liv was unsurprised when she received a summons from the King. When she returned to the washroom for her cleansing ritual, she was prepared to see Eliza Smith, but not the bathing tub filled with steaming water.

“What is this?” She asked incredulously.

Eliza gave her a dazzling grin. “I do hope you are familiar with the concept of baths.”

“Fuck you,” she snapped. Eliza had already been treated to her caustic tongue and looked perfectly unruffled at the cursing. “This is the Queen's tub.”

“And the Queen is not here, so she will not mind,” Eliza said patiently, as though she were explaining to a child.

“She will mind when the maids tell her.”

“The maids will have nothing to tell, for they know nothing.” Eliza gestured at the tub. “Come, Liv. It will not hurt you.”

Truth be told, Liv had missed having baths. She had an old, leaky wooden tub back home which she used to indulge in whenever she could afford the time and the heating coals. The closest she had gotten to a bath at Court was the bucketfuls of hot water she insisted on upending over herself by the kitchens twice a week.

So she shrugged off her robes and the water felt so _good_ when she sank into it that she closed her eyes and let out a satisfied sigh. When she opened her eyes, she saw Eliza still watching her, still smiling.

“Well?” She asked her impatiently.

Eliza cocked her head to the side. “Well?” She repeated playfully.

“Are you waiting for an invitation?”

“Yes,” she said simply. Liv huffed, and nodded. Eliza's smile widened, and, quickly divesting herself of her sleeping robes, she climbed into the opposite side of the tub so that their folded knees were touching.

Liv gathered up water in her hands and scrubbed her neck -whatever this gesture meant, she had to get clean first and foremost. “What did you mean,” she asked Eliza, who was still watching her, “when you said the maids know nothing?”

Eliza shrugged delicately, running her hands along Liv's calves. “I thought my meaning was plain.”

Liv sighed. “Who set this up, then? And how do you know they won't go tattling to the Queen?”

Eliza's thumbs ran gentle circles on her knees, but her maddening blue eyes were fixed on her face. “I ran the bath, and I assure you, I will not tattle to her.”

Liv paused in the middle of scrubbing her arms, and stared at her. The callouses on Eliza's hands were never more apparent than they were now, stroking smooth lines onto Liv's legs.

“You?”

“Me,” Eliza nodded, and caught up one of Liv's feet, brushing her fingers along the arch of the sole. Calloused fingers, rough skin, a hint of muscle on her arms when she lifted Liv's foot higher to place a kiss on the ankle.

Unladylike features.

Liv felt a spark of curiosity in her mind, which was quickly extinguished when Eliza slipped one of Liv's toes in her mouth and sucked on it. Instantly, Liv jerked her foot back with a hiss. “That is disgusting,” she snarled.

Eliza only chuckled, and Liv continued furiously, “Why would you even do something like that?”

Eliza leaned forward on her knees until she was crouched over Liv. “I do so admire your limbs,” she murmured, her hot breath on Liv's face, her golden curls brushing Liv's bare shoulders, “with such dainty fingers and toes.” She braced one hand on the rim of the tub behind Liv, and grasped Liv's hand in the other. “Although I am more partial to your _magical_ fingers.”

Liv couldn't help it, she breathed a quiet laugh. “You shameless hussy. You did all of this for yourself, didn't you?”

Eliza's eyes were sparkling, and were fixed on Liv's lips. “My intentions were not wholly selfish,” she assured her, pressing a soft kiss on her lips. “I know how much you like to be clean.”

For the first time that evening, Liv felt her cheeks flush hot. “That is very-” She cleared her throat. “Thank you.”

Eliza kissed her again. “You are very welcome.”

Liv felt a sudden surge of affection rise within her, a feeling she had never before felt with such force. She decided instantly that Eliza deserved to be properly rewarded for her concern, and only felt she succeeded when she had Eliza moaning her name and writhing around her supposedly _magical_ fingers.

*

* * *

 

“He’s courting her,” Liv murmured accusingly, watching Lord Lobov walk next to a painfully stiff Isabel. This was their third time socialising with the gentlemen in a week, and for the third time, Lord Lobov had insisted on Isabel’s company. Liv only felt slightly appeased to see Lady Nan walking on his other side, keeping them company and watching over an increasingly distressed Isabel.

“It appears so,” Furlan agreed softly. “His intentions are plain for anyone to see.”

“Why does he persist when she is clearly not interested?” Liv demanded, her fingers tightening on his arm.

Furlan was quiet for so long Liv thought he had not heard her. Then, he said thoughtfully, “I think Isabel’s position matters more to him than her interest.” Understanding flashed across her immediately. It was no secret that Isabel had been sent to Court to secure a worthy husband. As the Queen’s second cousin, this would be no difficult matter to accomplish, but it pained Liv to see her suffer under the attention of a man more than twice her age, a man who pursued her for her title and little else.

Furlan squeezed her hand gently. “Worry not, Liv. Let us hope he makes his intent vocal soon, so she can turn him down definitively. And then we can all wash our hands off this matter.”

Liv watched as Isabel shot an anxious glance back at them when Lobov was talking to Lady Nan. Somehow, Liv felt, it would not be quite so simple as that. She let out a frustrated sigh and looked away, watching the other members of the Court stroll about the gardens. Almost accidentally, her eyes landed on Lady Lobov, who was walking with another lady on the other side of the fountains. As if they felt her eyes on them, both ladies turned around in the next moment. Liv felt an inexplicable jolt in her stomach when she realised the other woman was Eliza Smith -and they were both looking at her with such detached coolness that she felt a shudder run down her spine.

“Are you alright?” Furlan asked her, looking down at her in concern.

“Yes,” she managed, and turned away, Eliza’s cold blue eyes burnt into her memory.

*

* * *

 

This time, it was Liv’s turn to stay up late sewing. She had had years of practice repairing tears and fixing hems in dim light, so the dying fire did not bother her. When one of the doors of the receiving room swung open, she didn’t even look up. It had been Eliza’s turn with the King that night.

She only looked up when her slippered feet appeared in her view. Eliza was smiling tiredly down at her, and with a small sigh, she leaned forward, running a hand through Liv’s silky hair. Liv moved back immediately, scrunching up her nose. “No,” she said firmly. “Clean up first. I can smell him on you.”

“Such a demanding creature,” Eliza murmured, but complied; she pushed off her robes in the same room and casually walked into the washroom naked. Liv rolled her eyes and turned back to her handiwork, forcing herself to concentrate.

She was so engrossed in her work that she didn't notice at first when the soft sounds of water and cloth stopped. The silence finally hit her and she looked up, only to see Eliza leaning against the washroom’s doorframe, arms crossed over her bare chest, watching her intently.

“What are you doing?” She asked her, putting aside her work.

Eliza shrugged an elegant shrug. “I was thinking how you would make a perfect little housewife.”

It felt like an accusation. “If you think that, then you don't know me well enough,” she sneered.

Eliza walked forward and stopped inches before her. “You forget, my darling-” Liv's heart jolted at the term - “that indeed I do not.” Eliza's rough-skinned hands were on Liv's head once more, and suddenly, she tugged on Liv's hair until she was looking right up at her. Liv hissed and grabbed onto her hips, nails digging into her skin.

Eliza's eyes were the total opposite of what they had been in the gardens: they seemed to burn with a fire so intense it felt like they were burning Liv, too. “Such a maddening, perfect, _beautiful_ little woman you are,” she murmured, fingers grasping her hair tighter, making Liv's nails press deeper. “I do so despise you sometimes, Liv Ackerman.”

Liv bared her teeth at her, familiar heat coiling in her gut. “The feeling is mutual.”

“Mm.” She pulled hard enough to tear some strands of her hair out by the roots, and Liv let out a gasp of pain, inexplicably aroused. “Exquisite,” Eliza Smith whispered, and with a snarl, Liv tugged her hips forward and bit the inside of her thigh, hard.

The pressure on her scalp lessened as Eliza gave vent to a soft moan and rolled her hips into her face. Liv attacked with a vengeance, using both teeth and tongue to elicit the most delicious sounds out of her until- “ _Oh._  What am I to do when you leave?” Eliza whispered, and the words were so unexpected, Liv paused mid-lick and looked up, frowning.

“When I _leave_? What on earth are you talking about?”

Eliza smiled dimly. “Don't play coy, my dear. Everyone in Court is looking for a suitable husband. I do not mind, really.”

Liv's frown deepened and her grip loosened on her hips. “You're not making fucking sense, Eliza.”

Eliza's hands quickly clasped hers, holding them in place. “Well,” she drawled. “If you don't want to talk about it, I will not.”

Liv yanked her hands away. “Stop circling the matter and tell me what you mean.”

Eliza huffed and rolled her eyes. “The gossip of the moment is that you will not remain single for much longer.”

Liv raised an eyebrow. “And you believe these unsubstantiated rumours? That is very unlike you.”

For the first time since Liv met her, Eliza looked decidedly uncomfortable. “I… have noticed your preference for Lord Church,” she divulged finally, looking as if wild horses had dragged it from her.

_What?_

Liv could not help it -she let out a high-pitched giggle and clamped her mouth shut immediately for being too loud. Eliza sighed heavily and crossed her arms again, looking everywhere but at her. Her discomfort only increased Liv’s mirth; still shaking with laughter, she whispered, “Oh my- Eliza, don’t tell me…” She had to stop to swallow another laugh. “Don’t tell me you’re _jealous_.”

Eliza grit her teeth. “Clearly I have been jumping to conclusions.”

“ _No_ , what gave it away?” Liv snorted. Her sarcasm seemed to cheer her, and the corners of her lips twitched. “You are enjoying this too much.”

“Oh, I disagree,” Liv said immediately. “You almost never perform any gaffes, and I will take every chance I get to laugh when you do.”

Eliza was smiling properly now, and her brilliant gaze was softened. “Well, I am only human, and we all have our weaknesses.” A sudden rough palm landed on Liv’s cheek, silencing her. “And it appears you are mine.”

Liv's heart actually stuttered. They had never spoken of their little arrangement, knowing full well their positions in Court and the perceived impropriety of their behaviour. That Eliza had chosen to address it, with the suggestion that this was more than just an ‘arrangement’…

Liv thought of her mother, of little Kass, and a grimace twisted her mouth. She felt the smallest tremor pass through Eliza's fingers on her cheek. “Liv, I…” Slowly, she sank to her knees, so she could look more directly into her eyes. “Forgive me, I have overstepped-”

Liv closed her eyes. “Shut up.”

“But I-”

“Shut _up_.” She hissed. The look on Eliza's face when she opened her eyes was unbearable, somehow, so she surged up and crashed her lips onto hers. “Shut up,” she said again, softer this time.

“Alright,” Eliza said, just as softly.

Liv kissed her again, and Eliza didn't speak another word that night.

*

* * *

 

“What do you converse about?” Liv asked quietly. She and Isabel were sitting by the fire in the receiving room. It was late evening and soon they would retire to bed. Isabel worried at the hem of her gown with her fingertip, and Liv instantly placed her hand on hers, stopping her. She was strongly reminded of Kass, whose skirts and kerchiefs always sported frayed edges from this nervous tic.

“We do not ‘converse’,” Isabel said glumly. “He talks, and I listen.”

“What about?”

Isabel shrugged. “I hardly know. Sermons, or his estate. Horses sometimes, but he knows very little apart from their names and purposes. His stable hands take care of everything.”

Liv frowned. “Has he asked…”

“For my hand in marriage? Not yet, but perhaps he will, soon.” Isabel looked so morose at the thought that Liv hastened to console her. “But that would be a good thing! Then you can reject him, and then he will stop pestering you.”

Isabel looked at her, and her eyes suddenly seemed too old for her face. “Sometimes I forget how different your circumstances are from my own, Liv.” Liv felt familiar defensive anger at that, but said nothing, for she sensed that Isabel had more to say. “The choice is not really mine. My parents approve of the match, and it is their approval that matters.”

Liv's ire spiked for a whole other reason altogether. “That is ridiculous. He is not the only noble worth aligning oneself with.”

Isabel's lip trembled. “He is probably the most illustrious noble who will ever come my way.”

“You cannot say that for certain-”

“Liv.” Isabel smiled tiredly at her. “These arguments are not mine, but my parents’. Believe me, I have tried everything to sway their opinion. They will not listen.”

They were silent for a long moment, Liv's hand still firmly on Isabel's. Finally, she looked at her. “Isabel. No matter what your family thinks, you try and make your own choices. If he asks you, you say no.”

“But Liv-”

“If he asks you, you say no.” Liv repeated. “And perhaps he will think it too much trouble to marry a strong-willed woman and leave you be.”

She held Isabel's stare in her own for a long moment, until resolve seeped back into her face and she nodded, looking like the spirited Isabel of old. Liv squeezed her hand and nodded, too.

The Queen stood up to withdraw, and so did all the ladies. Liv gathered up her needlework and prepared to file out with the others, but she glanced at the door and saw Eliza Smith standing there, listening to a page. Liv felt a small wave of relief at that: she was feeling uncharacteristically tired, and would be glad to head to bed. However, Eliza's head snapped up and caught her gaze; with a single look, she arrested Liv's exit.

So Liv ushered Isabel away, and waited. When all of the ladies had left the room, Eliza approached her.

“What is it?” Liv muttered.

Eliza's eyes were soft, remorseful. “The King requests the pleasure of both of our company tonight.” Liv let out a silent sigh, and flinched when rough fingers stroked her cheek. “You are tired.”

“That hardly matters,” Liv scowled. “I shall go change into my robes,” she said abruptly and turned away, not before leaving a small kiss on the tips of those fingers.

*

* * *

 

The King had been in a wild mood. Liv had heard tales of his forceful nature, and had seen a few glimpses of this side of him, but she had seen _nothing_ until that night- the second night the King had both her and Eliza. He was already on the way to being colossally drunk, and seemed determined to take both the ladies with him along the same way. She was forced to guzzle wine, to nibble on cooling food, to-

She and Eliza were completely silent when they made their way back to the Queen's quarters in the wee hours of the morning. Neither of them had lingered: after the King had collapsed into snores, both of them had rushed to pull on their robes and hurried out of his rooms, Eliza swaying a little because she seemed to get more easily inebriated than Liv.

They headed straight to the washroom where they cleaned themselves up, slowly, quietly. Liv only spoke when they were at the door to the ladies’ sleeping hall: she grasped Eliza's wrist, who stopped walking immediately.

Liv swallowed hard. “Can we not… not just yet?”

Eliza's gaze softened; she nodded wordlessly and stumbled across the receiving room to the window seat with Liv in tow. There, she sat back and stretched her legs on the long cushion, gesturing for Liv, who didn't hesitate at all to clamber on between her legs and leaned back on her soft chest. Eliza's arms encircled her waist, her chin rested on her head. They sat quietly like this for a while, watching the clouds waft over the sickle moon outside the window.

At some point, Eliza's grasp tightened on her abdomen -only gently, but Liv could not stop the flinch that passed through her.

“Are you in pain?” Eliza murmured, hint of a slur in her voice.

“No,” Liv said, her usual response to the question. “I am stronger than you think.”

“You are the strongest person I know,” Eliza said immediately. Liv grunted, appeased.

Eliza squirmed, and said hesitantly, “There is a question I have wanted to ask you for a while.”

Liv brushed her fingers on her knuckles. “Ask away.”

“You will not like it.”

“If I don't like it, I will not answer it. Ask away.”

“Do you really have a brother?”

Liv froze, and was silent for so long Eliza began to apologize. But then she spoke, surprising both of them-

“He was my twin.”

Eliza froze in her turn. Liv continued, words rushing from her mouth, feeling as if a dyke had broken. “He did not survive past infancy. Three months, my mother said. His name was Levi.”

“Levi,” Eliza repeated, and again, hearing _that_ name in _that_ voice affected her deeply. Clearing her throat softly, she continued, “My mother was hit hard by his death. She had lost so much. The way her life was going, she…” Liv took a deep breath. “There were times when it was better for her to have a son rather than a daughter. So- so I became Levi.”

There was a small pause where Eliza simply squeezed her hand. Liv continued, “Growing up I was both Liv and Levi, depending on who was asking. But to my mother… I was always Levi. It was Liv who had died.”

“I am sorry,” Eliza murmured in the pause that followed again. Liv shook her head. “She loved me. In her own way… She was under no illusion. She instilled in me the importance of coming to Court, of succeeding here. It was the least dangerous, most profitable action to secure my future. But… she always called me Levi. 'till the very end.”

They were both silent for a while, until Eliza brought up her hand to her lips. “And now? Who are you now?” She placed a kiss so soft, so fervent on her knuckles that a shudder passed through her. “Whose dainty hand must I credit with unravelling me so effortlessly?”

She turned her head around, her steel grey eyes boring into Eliza's fluid blue ones. She leaned up and brushed her lips against hers. “I am Levi,” she breathed.

“ _My Levi_ ,” Eliza whispered back, eyes gleaming, and she knew then that she was irrevocably lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * - It was not uncommon for royal children, even babies, to be granted their own household, at this time. This would also include a wet nurse for the younger ones, as noblewomen rarely nursed (i.e. breastfed) their babies for long.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, bit of an intense chapter coming up. I'm sorry in advance.
> 
>  **TW: Disturbing content of the non-con kind ahead.** See end chapter notes for details.

“Have you seen Isabel?” Levi asked Lady Nan, who carefully put aside her writing quill before looking up.

“No,” said she thoughtfully, “but it _is_ a fine day out.”

Levi nodded, and, ignoring the stares from the other ladies copying sermons, she left the room. When she reached the courtyard closest to the expansive gardens, she could see many members of Court taking advantage of the hot weather as Lady Nan had suggested. She shaded her eyes with her hand, and squinted to try and find a flash of red hair, a familiar dress, perhaps.

She did not see anything of the sort, but her gaze was immediately arrested by a head of blonde waves glinting not far from the Palace. Eliza Smith had let most of her golden locks tumble down her back today, and Levi could not help the stutter in her heart. She looked absolutely lovely in her green day-dress, in the simple pearls that gleamed in her hair, her face bright with a smile so brilliant it put the sun to shame. Not for the first time, Levi thought that Eliza Smith was indeed _gorgeous._

Again, as if she had felt her stare on her, Eliza’s eyes darted to her own. Her smile widened and she bowed her head slightly, making the tall man next to her turn towards Levi also. Levi tried hard not to blush, and nodded back, then scolded herself to not get distracted; she had promised to read with Isabel.

Reluctantly turning away, Levi retreated back into the Palace and resumed her search. She began to think that Isabel had after all gone on a horse ride around the Palace grounds. Perhaps Furlan had challenged her - _yet again_ -and they were currently egging each other on like children. Levi sighed and leaned against a window. She stayed there for a while, content in the shade, watching the people outside and wondering if Kass would prefer to have a toy horse or a toy sword.

Her thoughts naturally progressed to her impending trip home, and she made her way back to the Queen’s rooms, planning her stay in her head. She was so preoccupied she didn’t realise she had walked past her destination, but was brought out of her brooding mind by a sudden sound from the door next to her. A deep grunt, followed by a low moan.

Levi huffed and rolled her eyes. She toyed with the idea of opening the door suddenly to spook the paramours inside; but the moan changed into a soft wail, and Levi froze.

“No… please…”

Once, when she had been twelve, Liv had fallen into a frozen lake. The burning shock that currently spread through her limbs was painfully similar to the feeling of falling into ice-cold water. She _knew_ that voice.

The wail turned louder. “Please, stop-”

“ _Quiet_ , you little slut.”

The shock faded away as if it was never present and fury, pure, unadulterated rage blazed through her veins. Her hands curled into such tight fists that her nails broke skin on her palm, but she barely felt it as she marched toward the closed door. How _dare_ that _bastard_ -

A sudden vise-like grip encircled her wrist and forced her to halt. Levi whipped around, teeth clenched, nostrils flared, eyes like knives- to see Eliza Smith, her face expressionless. And with a small “Shh.” she began to drag Levi away.

 _What the fuck-_ “What the fuck-” Eliza yanked her arm roughly forward, moving faster, her calloused grip stronger. “Let me g-mmph!” Levi’s furious yell was muffled by Eliza’s other palm. “Please, Levi,” Eliza murmured, and at the sound of her voice, Levi lost all control. She kicked and bit and hissed and scratched and pulled, tried everything to evade Eliza’s astonishingly strong grip. She almost slipped away, but Eliza managed to haul her into an empty writing closet* and slammed the door shut behind them, blocking her way.

“Let me out!” Levi spat. “Let me go, you-”

Eliza tried to hold her hands. “Levi, please. I’m sorry. Please, you can’t-”

“He is _hurting_ her!” Levi all but screeched, and for the first time, Eliza looked pained. “I know.”

Levi paused to glare up at her. “What?” She muttered incredulously, but Eliza remained stoic. “You know?” She stepped forward, making Eliza back into the door. Levi’s hand found her shoulder and she shoved her roughly. “You fucking _know_? And you won’t let me _do_ anything?” Still Eliza remained silent.

Levi brought her hand back and slapped her hard across the face. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” She screamed, angry tears blurring her vision. “Where is your _humanity_?”

It was like she had struck a spark to Eliza’s flame: suddenly she looked furious, suddenly she loomed over her, tall and dangerous. “Don’t you _dare_ ,” she intoned, her voice deep and imperious, “presume I do not care. You know _nothing_ about me.”

“I know enough, now.” Levi spat.

And just like that, the grand, imposing figure was gone, and quiet Eliza Smith stood before her once more. “If you had gone inside at that moment, you would have become a witness,” she said, her voice admirably calm.

“Spare me your explanations and _let me. The fuck. Out."_

“He would have used you,” Eliza continued, her tone unchanged. “You would have been witness to the fact that she is not a virgin anymore.”

Somewhere in the roaring noise of her furious mind, the words started to hit home. For the first time, Levi stuttered. “I don’t- _he is hurting her_!”

“That does not matter. She is not ‘pure’ any longer. No one will marry her.” She spoke evenly, as though she was discussing the weather. “No one but him.”

Levi took a step back, shoulders slumping. “He has trapped her.”

Eliza simply nodded. They stood unmoving like that for a long moment, neither of them speaking, neither of them looking at the other. They both flinched when they heard the door creak open down the corridor. Levi froze for a moment, then pushed Eliza aside and swung the door open. She stepped outside just in time to see Lord Lobov’s cloak disappear around the far corner. And though she wished to her very bones to follow him and stab his throat with the nearest available cutting implement, her feet took her unthinkingly to the now open room.

It was another writing closet, and Isabel lay slumped in the corner by the window, her bodice in shreds, her gown bunched around her hips. Levi dropped painfully onto her knees by her side and gathered her up in her arms, her eyes pricking painfully.

“Isabel,” she whispered, and she could not help it: the tears were beginning to roll down her cheeks. “Oh, my poor Isabel.”

Isabel lay dull and unresponsive in her arms, her eyes like glass.

* 

* * *

 

“What happened?” Lady Nan sounded horrified, and Levi couldn’t bring herself to even look at her. She only vaguely registered the rustle of Eliza’s dress and her soft whisper- “Meant to be a surprise, but Miche’s here… could he... physician… thank you, Nana.”

Lady Nan left with a hurried “Of course,” and then it was the three of them once more. Isabel had wordlessly allowed Levi to pour some poppy-seed tisane down her throat, and had fallen asleep under its soporific influence. Levi had never seen a look so hollow, a person so much like a puppet without strings. Lady Nan returned ten minutes later to inform them that this ‘Miche’ person had gone to fetch a physician. Eliza thanked her, Levi simply nodded, Lady Nan left and there was silence once more.

It could have been minutes, it could have been hours later when Eliza spoke.

“Are you still angry?”

Levj thought of Lord Lobov with his sickening beefy hands, his grating voice, those pale shifty eyes that his sister shared.

“Yes,” she said and her voice cracked with disuse.

Eliza’s voice was softer. “With me?”

Levi finally looked up at Eliza, who looked as tired as she felt. “I could have stopped him.”

Eliza sighed. “Then he would have used you as-”

“He would have done no such thing,” Levi told her quietly, “because he wouldn’t have been breathing.”

Eliza’s eyes widened. “You -you would have…”

“Yes,” Levi snapped and rose to her feet, anger stirring in her chest once more. “Yes, god _damn_ it.”

There was a spark in Eliza’s eyes again as she took a step forward. “And then what? You would have been hanged for murdering a noble!”

“Isabel would have been _safe_ ,” Levi’s voice rose.

“Isabel would have had the stain on her honour nonetheless!”

“Who cares about _honour_ -”

“ _Everyone_ cares!” Eliza’s voice was the loudest it had been all day, and her eyes were blazing again. “She would have been in the same situation as she is now, whether or not he had finished fucking her-”

“Out.” Levi growled. “Get out.”

Eliza deflated immediately, chest heaving. “I -I went too far. I’m sorry.”

“Get. Out.” Levi turned away, unable to look at her face anymore. There was a small pause where it seemed like she might try to argue, but Eliza said nothing; she left silently, and as soon as the door shut softly behind her, the tears slipped past Levi’s eyelashes.

*

* * *

 

The Queen and the other ladies were intensely curious as to what had happened to Isabel. Fortunately, Eliza set herself to the task of lying to them without being asked to do so. A few ladies popped into the small sick room where Levi kept a constant vigil by Isabel’s bed, but no one pressed her for explanations. Levi supposed she ought to be thankful to Eliza, but she could not bring herself to feel anything more than sorrow and exhaustion.

The physician had come and gone during supper, and had advised plenty of rest and little else. It was far too soon to tell if Isabel had caught some sickness or had gotten with child. All she could do, the physician explained apologetically, was tend to her bruises, eat, rest, and recuperate. Levi wanted to scream at him that he was no help at all, but she said nothing. She was too tired.

Isabel woke up in the quietest hour of the night. She took one look at Levi and collapsed into a fit of soundless sobs. She barely took in any food or water, and was shaking so much that Levi tearfully fed her more sleeping tisane to calm her down.

Dawn was breaking when Levi opened her tired eyes, having slumped onto Isabel's bed sometime during the night. She looked blearily out the window: the sky was a dull grey, a stark contrast to the sunny weather the day before.

She realised in the next moment that a sound had woken her, and she turned around to see Eliza standing at the half-open door.

“Forgive me,” she whispered. “I did not mean to wake you.”

Levi shrugged and turned back to Isabel, who was still unconscious.

“Did she wake at all?”

Levi forced herself to answer. “To have two spoonfuls of broth.”

“That… is good.”

Levi said nothing. She could sense Eliza lingering, and tried to find the strength to tell her to leave.

Eliza spoke first. “Le-” She paused abruptly. “You should go to bed. I can stay.”

“No.” Levi rasped. “It has to be me.”

“I can excuse myself from my duties today,” Eliza insisted. “Let me.”

This made Levi look at her again. Eliza's hair was bound messily, her robes were barely wrinkled, and her eyes were baggy with lack of sleep.

“You were with the King,” Levi deduced.

Eliza shrugged. “I couldn't let anyone else tell him the story.”

For a moment Levi thought Eliza had told the King the truth of the matter; then she felt a sickening lurch in her gut when she understood the true meaning of her words.

“He asked for me last night?” Eliza said nothing and Levi stated, almost incredulously, “You took my place.”

Still, Eliza said nothing, and Levi got to her feet in a daze. “ _Why_?”

Eliza shrugged again. “There is an art to saying no to the King. I have taught it to myself over the years, and thought it best to utilise it last night.”

Levi took a step towards her, and Eliza stepped inside the room, gently closing the door behind her. “You didn't have to do that,” Levi said quietly.

“Of course I did.” Her voice was sharp.

Levi took another step forward, her eyes settling on the red mark on her face. “What did he say to that?”

Eliza's hand went to her cheek. “Oh.” A ghost of a smile twisted her lips. “I told him a cat attacked me.”

“A cat,” Levi repeated, her voice hollow.

Eliza nodded. “It went with these, too.” She extended her hands, and Levi was shocked to see several red scratches on her wrists. She hadn't even _noticed_ …

A lump was beginning to form in her throat. Slowly, cautiously, Levi reached forward and felt the scratches with the tip of her fingers. Eliza stood stock still, patient and calm, as though she was truly handling a real cat.

Levi swallowed. “I -didn’t realise.”

Eliza shook her head. “You were preoccupied.”

There was silence for a moment. Levi curled her fingers loosely on her palm. “You must hate me.”

Eliza's warm fingers curled gently around hers, but she made no other move. “Never.”

“You should.”

Eliza held her hand in both of hers. “Never,” she repeated fervently. Levi couldn't look at her face at all. “I don't deserve you,” she whispered, and finally Eliza moved, wrapping her arms around her.

“That is true,” she said softly, resting her chin on her head. “You deserve much better than me.” Levi pressed her face into her chest and shook her head.

“Oh, my darling Levi,” Eliza murmured mournfully. “You deserve the world.”

And then they were simply holding each other, tightly, as if letting go would unmoor them from reality.

It probably would have.

*

* * *

 

“You wished to speak to me, Lady Ackerman?” Furlan looked anxious. They sat in one of the covered arbours in the gardens, ostensibly to read, though Levi's book lay forgotten to the side.

“Yes. I- I hardly know where to begin.” Levi's fists were clenched tightly, and she felt Eliza stir behind her.

Furlan cast Eliza a nervous look. “I heard Lady Magnolia is ill?” Levi's fists tightened, and she only calmed down a little when Eliza placed her hand unobtrusively on her back.

“Yes. As a matter of fact, it is her that I wanted to talk about.”

The story came out -haltingly, with many swells of anger in her chest. Furlan was frozen -first in shock, then in grief.

“That fiend! That terrible _fiend_!” He cried. “How I wish I could help her!”

Levi shot a quick glance at Eliza, who nodded. Squaring herself, she turned back to Furlan. “I believe you can.”

“How? Tell me! I'll do anything!” Furlan said eagerly.

“You could marry her.”

Furlan leaned back in shock, his face paling. “W-what?”

“Lobov is returning to his country estate, and so has said nothing for now,” Levi explained to him, the way Eliza had to her. “But there is no doubt that he will soon lay a claim to her. That -that was clearly his intention. Marrying him would only make her life worse for her, and she does not look like she can take any more.” Levi's voice trembled. “No one else will stand up to him to take her. Her family will disown her, she-” Here she had to pause, and Eliza's hand pressed hard on her back. “You would not want any more harm to come upon her, yes? You care for her.”

Furlan jumped to his feet. “Yes, but not in that way!” He looked anguished. “I do, believe me, I _do_ care for her. But she is like a sister to me!”

Levi stood up, too. “She will die, Furlan.” Furlan winced at her hard words, but she was beyond caring. “This man will kill her. He has already come close to succeeding. Please,” she blinked back tears, “ _please_ don't let him succeed.”

Furlan grasped her hand. “Liv. Do not ask this of me, please.” His eyes were glimmering with tears, too. “I cannot marry her. I cannot marry _anyone._  I _swore_ not to marry.”

Eliza spoke for the first time. “May I ask why?”

Furlan turned to her, and he looked furious. “No. You may _not._  That is my concern, and mine alone.”

His rudeness did not seem to bother her. “Surely your family would be pleased with such an illustrious match,” she said softly.

“My family can go hang,” he snapped, “but I shall not marry.”

“You sound as if you have promised someone,” Eliza continued calmly, almost ruthlessly. “Someone you love?”

It had not seemed possible, but Furlan turned more white. “No,” he mumbled, and Levi almost rolled her eyes. He was a terrible liar. He only made it worse by insisting defensively, “There is _no_ one. Ask anyone you like, I am not courting any lady.”

“Not a lady, then,” Eliza murmured, _smiling_.

He gaped at her, and his colour rapidly changed from white to red. “There is no woman,” he repeated, vehement.

Something clicked in Levi's mind, something that had surely occured to Eliza already. She glanced at her, who gave her a confirming nod.

“Furlan,” Levi said almost meekly, “is it a man?”

Furlan was quiet for so long it was a confirmation in itself. “No,” he whispered at length, but it was too late. There was a small moment of silence, then Levi took his hand in hers. “You really should learn to lie better, you know,” she said mildly. “Look at me.”

She could almost hear the smile in Eliza's voice. “Liv certainly is an accomplished liar.” She placed her hand around Levi's waist, who leaned back in to her and said, “I learnt from the best, my dear.”

Furlan’s mouth hadn't quite closed for the past minute and a half, and now he stared at them, his eyes flickering between their calm faces and Eliza's hand firm on her waist.

Finally, he muttered, “You - _you_?”

Levi simply raised an eyebrow.

He let out a small, disbelieving chuckle. “You.”

Eliza's hand left her waist as she stepped forward, and Levi had to fight to not grab her hand and put it back. Anyone could have walked in at that moment after all. “What we are trying to say, Furlan,” Eliza said gently, “is that we are the last people in the world to judge you. I am certain Isabel will be of the same mind. Talk to her. Explain things as they stand.” Eliza paused and looked away. “It is unfortunate that you cannot marry your lover, that the world forbids it. At least you will marry a friend.”

Furlan stared at them for one long, frozen moment. Then, finally, he nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TW:** Rape, and its immediate aftermath. I haven't described it in detail but, um, it's pretty obvious what happens. :/ Poor Isabel.
> 
>  **A/N:** *A "writing closet" was the Tudor equivalent of a modern study, used to write or read in peace. These rooms were quite small and were specifically built for the peace and privacy required for readers. As a modern reader, I totally get the need for a space like this in a very busy and very public royal palace.
> 
> A word on "Miche": fun fact, whenever I read SnK fanfiction, even the modern AU's, I always read Mike's name as "mee-kay", thanks to the anime. This is the pronunciation I am aiming for, which is why I changed the spelling. :)
> 
> Also yay for gay x lesbian solidarity!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A nice, long chapter coming up! Apologies if the chapter breaks seem off. I basically wrote this all as a continuous series of scenes without paying attention to where and when I could break for a new chapter. So, brace yourself for quite a bit of plot advancement, new (familiar) faces, and Eliza's backstory!
> 
> Happy reading!

“We have arrived, milady.”

Levi rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, and let herself be handed out of the carriage. She discreetly rolled her shoulders and stretched her fingers while she waited for her luggage to be removed. After spending hours in that cramped carriage, all she wanted to do was stretch like a cat, but she held herself back. Not yet, when the driver and footman were still pottering about.

After her months at the Royal Palace, Levi was struck by how shabby her little home truly was. There were masons and gardeners abound, sprucing up the place. But back when Levi had inherited the old house and the small parcel of land that accompanied it from her dead Uncle, Levi had felt like she had come to own a palace herself -a faded, broken-down ruin of one, but she had felt grand indeed. She remembered thinking that it had come too late, for her mother had already died. Now, she could only think that her mother would not have been very impressed, having been to Court herself.

“Lady Ackerman.” Mr. and Mrs. Ral were waiting for her at the front door, and their small, warm smiles felt soothing to her. Their daughter Petra stood a little apart, and behind her skirts, Levi espied a small figure.

Petra Ral noticed. “Well?” She said, kindly but firmly to the girl hiding behind her. “Won't you greet the lady?”

Levi shook her head and waved her hand, and Petra Ral stepped aside. Little Kass looked like she wanted to dart behind her nurse again, but stood her ground. Levi knelt before her.

“Hello, Kass,” she murmured.

Kass finally looked at her, her eyes darting all over her face. “Levi,” she said finally, in her low, flat voice.

A smile quirked Levi's lips but she held it back. “I thought you had forgotten me.”

Kass shook her head. “You look different,” she said. Levi stared at the girl, at this distant relation who could easily pass for her sister: her eyes were the same stormy grey as hers, her skin just as pale, her silky dark hair rippled straight down her back like Levi's did. A familiar twinge made itself known in Levi's chest.

“It's still me,” she assured her, and Kass cast her another searching glance. She looked like she didn't believe her.

“Shall we go inside?” Mrs. Ral suggested. Levi nodded, rose up and offered Kass her hand. Again, there was that moment of hesitation before Kass placed her small hand in hers.

Levi's heart twisted a little more.

*

* * *

 

“Martin's fields are doing particularly well,” Mr. Ral said, in his good-natured tone, “though I'll have to ask him for the specifics.”

Kass, who was practicing her letters by the fire, looked up quickly to say, “Petra knows.”

Petra Ral, who sat next to her, reddened a little, but said confidently, “I wrote down some of the figures for Miss Kass and I to practice together. Shall I fetch them?”

Mr. Ral beamed at his daughter. “If you would be so kind, dear.” With a brisk nod, Petra hurried away.

Levi tapped the ledgers in front of her absently. “It is good to hear,” she murmured. “After the drought last year...”

“Indeed, milady. It has been a good year for us all.”

Levi simply grunted, and reached for another ledger. “And the expenses for the pantry? I was thinking the flour we obtain is really sub-par-”

“Oh, we changed mills, Lady Ackerman!” Petra had returned with a small leather bound notebook. “I heard the Ness’ mill gave better grist.” She approached them, and looked a little anxious, but her voice remained firm. “They are a little distant than our usual mill, but the quality really makes up for the added expense. So I suggested to my mother,” she added quickly in the end.

Levi turned and looked at the young woman properly. She had never really paid attention to her, accepting her as part of the family that came forward to help her take care of her ancestral home. Petra had been a precocious fourteen year old then, maturing into a quieter woman in the couple of years before Kass arrived. Levi had been so frazzled, so completely at a loss to care for the child that she had gladly accepted Mrs. Ral’s suggestion that her daughter act as little Kass’ nurse. Levi had not given her much thought for any other reason.

“Do you know everything from this ledger, then?” Levi asked her curiously.

The blush in Petra's cheeks deepened. “I fill them for my mother, so I have a fair understanding, milady.”

“Hmm.” Levi grunted again, and turned to Kass. “Hey, brat. Mind if I borrow Petra for some time?” Kass looked up from her papers, and said, in her usual monotone, “Sharing is caring.” And returned to her writing.

Smirking, Levi gestured for Petra. “Have a seat,” she said curtly, “and help me understand these figures.”

Petra looked like she was fighting hard to hide a grin herself. Dragging out a wooden chair, she said, “Gladly, Lady Ackerman.”

*

* * *

 

“Where are you going?”

Levi flinched, and turned around. Kass stood at the kitchen door, rubbing her eyes and frowning.

“Out. Get back to bed.”

“You're wearing breeches,” Kass said, almost accusingly.

“I like some freedom in movement sometimes,” Levi said, hand on the doorknob. Then, with a sigh, she turned around again. “Don't tell anyone I left like this.”

Kass’ frown deepened. “You only just came home. Will I see you again?”

Her question surprised Levi so much, she took a few steps toward the girl. “Of _course_ you will, Kass. I'll be back tomorrow night or the morning after.” She took another step forward. “What makes you think I won't return?”

Kass simply shook her head. “Everybody leaves.” And those words, in that expressionless voice of hers, seemed to go through her chest like a spear. She placed her hand awkwardly on Kass’ smooth head. “Well, I'm coming back. We still need to practice fighting with those swords I got you.”

She saw Kass slump her shoulders, as if in relief, but otherwise the girl seemed unmoved. “They're only wooden swords,” she scoffed softly, and Levi smirked.

“Well, I can't end up beheading you accidentally, now, can I?”

Kass glared up at her. “ _I'll_ disembowel you first.”

“And that's why I brought you wooden swords,” Levi grinned and pat her on the head. “Off to bed, now.” Kass nodded, and without any hesitation, ran back into the darkness of the house.

Levi took a deep breath, and headed to the stable.

*

* * *

 

In the end, it was disgustingly simple. She had left early to reach the small market town not far from her home, where several country roads met, where she knew she would find her quarry. She tailed the man for the entire morning and afternoon, completely unobserved. She could have got him at any moment then.

She waited until dusk instead, following him along the riverbank when he came staggering out of one of the tavern, not quite drunk, but not quite sober, either. She had let him glimpse her face in the last second - “ _for Isabel_ ,” she hissed, and her knife flashed before the man could even register the horror. She stripped him of his heavy sables, his rich baubles, and shoved his body into the river. His eventual destination was downstream, and no one would even guess he had met his end in this town when they would find his body miles away. She would dump the knife and the valuables in the river on her way back in the opposite direction, but that would have to wait. She had to make an appearance in the tavern, like any other traveller passing by, before collecting her horse and leaving.

Levi hurried back to the tavern, taking care to walk in a masculine swagger, the hood of her cloak hiding her face. She hoped she could leave soon; she intended to reach home and see Kass that very night. Thus preoccupied, she didn't notice where she was going and ran into someone.

“Watch where yer goin’,” she growled in the provincial accent she had learned from her uncle, and almost walked away, when the other person said in a low voice, “Excuse me? I believe you dropped something.”

Levi whipped around, and froze. The stranger was holding up her knife -clean and completely void of blood, but it was _the_ knife.

She made to grab at it, but the stranger moved his hand out of her grasp. She glared up at him, mouth twisting into a snarl -and froze _again_.

Eyes bluer than the blue of a summer sky gleamed down at her.

“Hello, Levi,” said a painfully familiar voice, muffled in some curious way. “I was hoping to run into you.”

Those lips -the very lips, surely, that she had kissed raw so many times -were smiling down at her. Her fingers somehow reached the knife and as she curled them around its hilt, she felt callouses she had mapped innumerable times on the other palm. But… _how_? What-

“Who…?” Levi whispered, and that familiar smirk widened.

“Ah, where are my manners.” Those damned blue eyes flashed wickedly at her in the moonlight. “Erwin Smith, at your service.”

*

* * *

 

Levi could not stop staring at her. She had, like Levi, dressed in a man's breeches and travelling cloak. She had, like Levi, mastered the manner of walking like a man. When she mentioned that she had rented a room for the night, and suggested withdrawing there, her voice, like Levi's, was lower, deeper.

Not trusting herself with words, Levi simply nodded, and followed her upstairs. They walked into the room, and Erwin -Eliza - _Erwin_ closed and locked the door behind her. And smiled at her again. “Hello, Levi.”

Levi took a deep breath. “What the _fuck_ is going on?”

Her smile widened. “Have a seat, darling. You look gobsmacked.” Her voice had shifted back into the polished cadence of the Court, and Levi felt like she was back on familiar territory.

“No.” She crossed her arms. “You. Explain first. What the hell are you doing here? How did you know I'd be here? How-”

“Patience, my dear.” She approached her swiftly and cupped Levi's chin into a rough palm. “I missed you.”

“It's been two days,” Levi grumbled.

“Two days far too long.” Her breath was warm on Levi's face, but, with an effort, Levi leaned away. “Explain.”

She sighed and turned around to sit heavily on the bed. “I knew the minute you told me you were going home early. You would not have left Isabel's side, in her state, unless it was something related to her wellbeing that made you leave.” A small smile. “It was not hard to guess what exactly you had in mind.”

Levi gave her a sharp nod. That made sense. “And how did you know where to find me?”

“Strategically, this was the best place to… commit the deed. Not too far from your own home, and the perpetrator would be hard to trace in a market town with so many travellers coming and going.”

“And this tavern?”

“Ah.” A sly smirk. “That was an educated guess. This is the cleanest tavern in town.”

Levi snorted. “You know me too well.”

“Mm. Not well enough, apparently.” She took off her hat, and a thick blonde braid tumbled down her back. “I have been here since last night and I didn't catch a glimpse of you since. I was ready to give up seeing you, to be honest, when you walked into me.”

“What a coincidence.”

“Indeed.” Her smile dimpled her cheeks and Levi could not stop staring at her. Her angular face, so striking in a woman's garb, now became a young man's face with little alteration. The sharp lines of her jaw, her long nose, her thick eyebrows were more pronounced -Levi guessed she had used actors’ makeup to darken her skin, bringing out the edges, hiding the softness

“Are those all the questions you had?”

Levi shook her head; the most important one remained. “Who are you?”

“You know who I am.”

“What do I call you? Erwin? Eliza? Which one?” Who has she known all this time? Who has she worked with, dined with, served the King and Queen with, _slept_ with-

“You can call me whatever you like. I am both, not either-or.”

“That's not…” Levi shook her head angrily. “You're not making sense.”

She still seemed amused. “Does it have to make sense?”

“Don't you turn your riddles on me,” Levi snapped. “Who. Are you?”

Her expression turned fond. “I am the same woman you have known all this time, Levi. ‘Erwin’ simply began as… a lark. You remember Miche -Lord Zacharias?” Levi nodded, thinking of the giant man who had fetched the physician for Isabel. “He and I are great friends -he is, in fact, my alibi now for being away from Court. These are his old clothes. When we were younger, we used to pretend to be other people, and sneak into bars and taverns. Just for fun, you know.” She smoothed the rim of her hat. “Since then, I have used this persona multiple times to slip out of Court, when I felt like it, when being a woman felt too much to bear. You understand, don't you?”

And Levi understood, of _course_ she understood. She had lost count of the number of times she had wished she were born as a man instead, not bound by the heavy duties and responsibilities a woman had to carry in society.

She swallowed, and nodded, “I understand.” She stepped towards her.

Her hands were immediately on Levi's hips, drawing her in. “I am sorry for not telling you sooner. I hoped to surprise you.”

“Well, you succeeded to a marvel in that respect,” Levi said wryly. “I almost pissed my pants when I saw you.”

She chuckled, and turned those eyes onto Levi's face once more. “So? Which will it be?”

Levi knew what she meant. “Hmm,” she stalled, stroking the smooth waves of her golden head. “Who else knows of Erwin?”

“Other than Miche, only you.” Her fingers tightened on Levi's hips, and there she had her choice made for her.

“ _Erwin_ ,” Levi repeated. “I rather like the sound of that.” She raised one eyebrow, and almost smirked at the way her long fingers twitched on Levi's sides. “Do you?”

Blue eyes darkened with familiar desire. “Coming from your lips, it is the most exquisite sound in the world.”

“Erwin it is, then.” Levi could hold back no longer: she leaned down, and they finally kissed. And though she felt an urgent, burning need to touch her, to hold her, their kiss was slow, almost lazy, and beautifully long. When they broke apart, Erwin whispered again, “I missed you.”

Levi tucked a blonde strand of hair behind her ear. “Is that why you came?”

“More or less. I hoped to help, in case you needed it.” Levi snorted, and that elicited a small chuckle from her. “Yes, I foolishly underestimated you.” Her hands squeezed tight on her hips. “Rest assured, I will not be making the same mistake again.”

The naked want in Erwin’s eyes did not go unnoticed, and without further ado, Levi pounced on her.

*

* * *

 

“Breeches suit you,” Levi yawned later that night, when they lay in a tangle of limbs on the bed.

“ _Do_ they?” Erwin drawled, grinning. Levi grinned back and slapped her on the rump lightly. “You have the figure for it.”

“ _Exactly_ what every lady wants to hear: how her figure suits men's clothing.”

“Shut up,” Levi chuckled, then yawned again. Those wonderfully warm fingers of hers were carding through Levi's long hair as they often did. “Tired?”

“I can stay awake,” Levi insisted and snuggled closer. “ _Erwin_ ,” she added, smiling when her arm curled around her waist and pulled her closer. “Where did you get that name anyway? Is there a long-dead brother in _your_ past, too?”

Levi felt the way her entire body stiffened. She opened her mouth to apologize, but was stopped by a- “Sister, actually. And she may yet be alive, for all I know.”

Levi stared at the humourless smile curving her lips. “Her name was -not Erwin, of course- it was Ann. She was… much older than me.”

“What happened to her?” Levi asked quietly.

A pause. “It is a long story.”

“I don't mind,” Levi said instantly, then reached up to place a soft kiss on her chin. “But I understand if you would rather not talk about it-”

“No,” Erwin cut in, her embrace tightening. “I _want_ you to know. I will tell you.”

There was silence for sometime before the story began. “I am not of this land. I was not born here, this is not my country. My family was an old one, a noble family back home, but then, the Revolution happened.”

Levi felt her breath catch. She had heard of it, but had barely cared. What did it matter to her starving belly, what happened to foreign nobles in a distant land? She tried to imagine a young Erwin, terrified and running for her life. She did not like the images her mind came up with.

“We fled. Many of our friends and relations were killed, including -my father.” A sudden pause, a sudden deep breath. “But we survived. We came to this kingdom poor and hungry and grieving. We were in hiding, for we had heard that there were supporters of the dissenters in this kingdom. That even here we could be murdered for our names, our blood.

“But that hardly mattered for we were entirely friendless. Somehow, through some stroke of luck, my mother secured work as a chambermaid in one of the estates. My sister was put too work too, and as soon as I was old enough, so was I.”

“You worked as a chambermaid,” Levi stated flatly.

“No, no, my mother and sister did. _I_ was a scullery maid. Those few years were… harsh.”

And finally Levi understood. She clasped Erwin’s beautiful hands in her own, traced the myriad marks and callouses on them -the hardened knuckles, the hint of muscles, the skin of her palms that flaked no matter how many times she anointed them with creams and unguents… All from years of cleaning and scrubbing and heavy lifting. Very gently, Levi kissed her hands, and felt an answering press of lips on her head.

“They did not last, my darling. Lord Smith soon saw my mother for what she truly was and married her. It was quite a scandal back in the day,” she murmured, a reminiscing smile on her lips. “In the interim, my sister, in her capacity as chambermaid, had fallen in love with a footman. They eloped a year before my mother's marriage.”

“And you haven't seen her since?” Levi asked her, shocked.

“No.”

“You didn't even try to look for her?”

“Her life is now completely separate to my own. We have nothing in common.”

Levi frowned, she still could not understand it. “But she is your family.”

“By blood,” she nodded. “By some shared unhappy memories. Nothing more.”

“Do you not miss her?”

“I hardly knew her.” Erwin’s blue eyes are fixed contemplatively on the wall behind Levi. “She was never too involved in my early years, for age proved too wide a gulf for us to ever bridge. The most I saw of her was in our weeks of hiding. And then again, we were set apart by the different hierarchies in our employment. I did not even know she had a lover until I learnt of her elopement. I never knew where she went.”

“But if you seek her now…”

“Levi, I do not want to.” The abruptness of her statement seemed to echo in their small room. “It has been well over fifteen years since I last saw her. Court would be alien to her, as would she to the Court.”

“You are not the Court.”

“I am part of it. And it is part of me. A very large part, in fact, and it will not let me reconcile with her. It would be futile to try. We would both be miserable.”

Something in her words struck a personal chord with Levi. “Do you always see yourself at Court, then? All your life?”

Erwin looked surprised at the question. “Of course. What other life would there be for me?”

Levi thought of the ledgers she had gone over with the Ral's, of the budgeting and planning she was doing for the coming years. Levi had gone to Court with the objective of securing financial security, nothing more. Once that was obtained, once her income from her lands became self-sustained, there would be nothing keeping her in the palace.

“Of course,” Levi repeated without conviction, and kissed her hands gently.

*

* * *

Levi returned to Court ten days later, and was welcomed almost tearfully by Isabel. Levi was glad to see that she was up and about, at the very least. But something about her had changed. She was not as loud as before, her face was drawn, and she was apt to break into sudden contemplative silences that Levi anxiously roused her out of. 

Furlan had already spoken to her, she said, almost shyly, and added that she had accepted his marriage proposal. Now the families were talking, the Churches fighting to convince the Magnolias that this was a good match. 

“He told me. About -his situation…” Isabel tapered off, looking uncertain as to how to proceed.

“He told me, too.” Levi nodded.

“I -I admit that I do not understand.”

Levi frowned at the rosebush in front of her, deliberating on the right flower to pick and the right words to choose. “Understanding aside, do you hate him for it? Judge him for it?”

Isabel actually stopped to ponder the question. “He told me everything, you know. How they met, and -um. It is difficult to imagine…” Levi suddenly wondered how she would react to her and Erwin. Wondered if she already knew.

Isabel rallied suddenly. “But, well. I have been told before I am not a very imaginative person, so it matters not that I cannot imagine it. He seems happy and… it is sincere, I could tell.” Isabel smiled a small sad smile. “That's what really matters, isn't it?”

Levi took her hand in hers and squeezed it gently. “Yes.”

*

* * *

 

Barely a week after that, Isabel’s marriage to Furlan was fixed. The gossip about the hasty wedding was overshadowed by the more serious news of Lord Lobov's death. Levi had returned to Court to find Lady Lobov in a state of blatant panic. Her brother's bloated, rotting corpse was found two days after Levi's return, and only an old, large scar left from a hunting accident served to identify him.

The news seemed to shake up the entire Court. The gruesome nature of his death, and the mystery surrounding it -for no one seemed to know where and how he met his end -was shocking enough without the added feature of his high status. He had been very politically involved, thus making his murderer appear all the more brazen and difficult to find, for the dead man had had no dearth of enemies. The King himself swore to bring justice to this foul deed, and the Queen was equally furious and tearful on behalf of one of her favourite handmaidens -Nikita Lobov, the dead Lord's sister.

Lady Lobov was in fact a Lady no longer, for her brother had died childless and his heir happened to be a distant cousin. The Queen, in a grand gesture of friendship and benevolence, had insisted on retaining her in her Court, and continued to address her with her title. To Levi's surprise, this was the only thing in the whole saga that bothered Erwin.

“I suppose it shouldn't surprise me,” Erwin sighed with a toss of her golden head. “The woman has been grovelling at the Queen's feet for years before I was even presented at Court.”

Levi frowned, but said nothing and kept her focus on the sheet she was hemming. Erwin, sharp as ever, noticed. “You are very quiet.”

“I have nothing to contribute,” Levi muttered.

“You do not approve of my gossiping,” Erwin guessed astutely.

“You mistake apathy for disapproval,” Levi said shortly and bit the excess thread off of her knot.

“You are annoyed, then.”

Levi sighed as she reached for the other edge of the sheet. “I do not care either way, Erwin.”

“Such a strange creature you are,” Erwin sounded amused, and Levi looked up at her again. “A ruthless killer, yet you abhor gossip and slander.”

“Keep your voice down,” Levi hissed.

“No one will hear.” And though Erwin was probably right, since the two of them were seated in the farthest corner near the window, away from everyone, Levi couldn't help but be paranoid. Her mother had drilled it into her: ' _watch your every move, every word you speak. Even the walls have ears_.’

Erwin shifted so that her knee nudged Levi's gently. Here, in public with the rest of the Queen's Court, they could get away with little else. “I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“I am never uncomfortable around you,” Levi told her seriously, and the sudden smile Erwin shot her seemed to fill her with warmth.

“You certainly are in high spirits, Lady Smith.”

Levi forced herself to stay as calm as Erwin appeared to be. Lady Darlett was staring down at them, looking part scandalised, part gleeful, as if she had caught them doing something reproachful. “Pray, what do you find so amusing in this dark time?” Her voice was needlessly loud, and Levi could sense several ladies’ heads turning their way.

That _cunt_.

Erwin was still smiling, still calm. “Lady Ackerman has been regaling me with some jokes, that's all.”

“Oh?” Lady Darlett purred. “Do share with the rest of us, Lady Ackerman.”

Levi tightened her grip on her needle as she tried to think fast. “Uh.” She vaguely remembered some unfunny questions that her uncle used to spout. Ignoring the other ladies and turning to Erwin, she said, “Answer me this. What is the distance from the surface of the sea to its deepest part?”

Erwin’s eyes brightened, she looked actually eager. “I don't know. What is it?”

Levi almost cringed before answering. “Only a stone's throw.”

There was a split second of silence where Levi berated herself internally. _Of all the stupid, ridiculous, immature-_

An undignified snort interrupted her musings. Then Erwin gave vent to a giggle, and before she knew it, Erwin was laughing outright. Levi looked at her, stunned: she didn't seem to be acting, she looked genuinely tickled. One of the ladies in the room rolled her eyes and smiled. “Really, Eliza?”

“Oh, that was _hilarious_!” Erwin wheezed, eyes glimmering with tears of merriment. “Another!”

An unbidden smile was curving Levi's lips, too. “Alright. Why do men make an oven in a town?”

“Why?” Erwin grinned.

“Because they cannot make a town in an oven.”

Several ladies groaned but Erwin actually doubled over in peals of laughter. Levi exchanged a look with the nonplussed Lady Darlett, who then, with a sort of confused shrug, wandered away.

Levi waited for Erwin to stop laughing -which happened to take quite a while, as Erwin kept slipping into hysterical giggles every time she quietened down. By the time she managed to regain her composure, all the ladies had turned their attention elsewhere.

“Goodness!” Erwin took a deep breath, fanning herself vigorously, her cheeks bright red, a wide smile still fixed on her face. Then she noticed Levi's eyes on her and asked, “What?”

Levi shook her head, fighting down the urge to grab her by the neck and kiss her then and there. “You have a really shitty sense of humour.”

Erwin bit her lip bashfully and Levi had to look away. “Yes, I'm afraid it's rather ill-bred of me.”

“Positively uncouth,” Levi murmured, still smirking over her stitches.

She felt Erwin’s rough hand press warmly on hers under the sheets, and a jolt passed through her when she realised she could not have been happier in a private embrace.

For the first time, Levi was forced to admit to herself that she was definitely, indubitably in love.

*

* * *

 

The day of Isabel's wedding came upon them at last. It was mostly cloudy, with brief flashes of sunlight, as though the weather, much like Levi, could not decide if it was a joyous occasion or not. In the minutes before the ceremony was due to begin, Isabel looked nervous more than anything else. Levi, of course, was her witness and maid of honour, and helped her adjust her train.

“You look lovely,” she told Isabel, whose worried frown smoothed away.

“Thank you, Liv. You-” Her eyes began to fill with tears. “You are like the sister I never had.” And Levi, never one for physical displays, gathered Isabel in her arms in a tight embrace, blinking back tears of her own.

The ceremony in the chapel was brief and uneventful. Both the bride and groom were visibly nervous, Furlan stammered through his vows, but the small smile they shared at the end of the ceremony was clearly genuine. Then, with the King and Queen's blessings, the entire wedding party returned to the Great Hall, where the newly allied families had sponsored a wedding feast.

Levi stayed by Isabel's side to begin with, but the long line of well-wishers seemed never ending, and, feeling a little overwhelmed, she slipped out of the hall after gratefully acknowledging Isabel's understanding nod. She walked around aimlessly for a few minutes, before she realised her feet had brought her back to the chapel. Glancing around, as if she were doing something wrong, she stepped inside.

The hall had been gaily decorated with ribbons and flowers for the event, but in the emptiness and shadows of the late afternoon, it looked rather gloomy indeed. The rustle of Levi's blue and red gown (to match her family colours) seemed to fill the cavernous room. She walked past the empty eaves, trailing her fingers on the decorations, shedding petals in her wake.

She came to a stop in front of the grand altar and wondered what it felt like. Wondered if she would ever stand in front of an altar like Isabel had, say words with life-altering meaning in front of a crowd of people. She wondered if she even _wanted_ it. For the longest time she had thought she didn't, but-

“There you are.”

Levi flinched, but did not turn around, waited for the rustling to approach her until she could see her glorious leaf green dress from the corner of her eye.

“It got a little too crowded for my taste,” Levi murmured, twining her fingers automatically with Erwin’s when she reached for her hand.

“I thought as much.” Erwin’s lovely deep voice echoed perfectly in the room; Levi had long thought Erwin would be a fine orator, or poetess, or -a blasphemous idea -priestess for a devoted cult. She had that firmness in tone, that lilt to her words that made everyone look up and listen when she spoke.

“Are you sad? For Isabel?” She asked her, and Levi reflexively squeezed her hand.

“I don't know,” she replied honestly. “I don't think so. Furlan will take good care of her.”

Erwin hummed in agreement. “That is more than several ladies can say about their own marriages.”

Levi looked at her, at the pensive frown of her thick eyebrows, the faraway glimmer in her eyes. “Is that why you never married?”

Erwin blinked, and smiled. “I suppose. I nearly came close, once. But he married someone else and I have never once regretted it.”

Her expression was too smooth. “Truly?” Levi asked her.

Erwin squeezed her hand, her rough palms scratching hers. “Truly. I have long since decided that marriage was never a part of my destiny.”

Levi turned back to the altar, to the idols she had long since given up on.

“But,” Erwin said suddenly, “I never thought I… would want it again.” Erwin turned to face her, and Levi turned too, her heart pounding in her ears.

“If I could, Levi,” Erwin said softly, “I would marry you in a heartbeat.”

Levi swallowed hard. She didn't have a way with words the way Erwin did, and simply nodded. Erwin’s eyes, that were already glimmering in the light from the stained glass, seemed to well up. She cleared her throat and murmured, “As it is, I believe I already -what are the words? 'Devote myself, body and soul, to you, to your wellbeing, to your happiness. For better or for worse.’”

_Oh._

“Erwin,” was all Levi managed to rasp before she leaned up and met Erwin halfway, sharing the most chaste kiss they had ever shared, only lips and fingers touching, and Levi felt like she would burst from the storm of emotions welling inside her-

Until-

Levi stiffened up and whipped around, heart racing for another reason altogether. The rustle was audible even to Erwin as they both squinted into the darkened doorway of the chapel.

“Who was it?” Erwin’s voice was as mellow as ever, but her fingers were gripping Levi's wrist tight enough to hurt.

Levi swallowed again. It _had_ been dark, but she had seen clearly enough the tail of the dark dress disappearing around the corner -and she thought of the only woman wearing black at the wedding.

The mourning Lady Lobov.

* * *

**FOR BETTER OR FOR WORSE**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: "They're practically married already" is the sigil of House Eruri, true story. BRB, I need to go bawl in a corner from all the feels.
> 
> Again, I made the above “dolls” on a lovely “Tudor Scene Maker” developed by the insanely talented Ola at [Doll Divine](https://www.dolldivine.com/the-tudors-scene-maker.php) and Azalea at [Azalea's Dress up Dolls](http://www.azaleasdolls.com/dressupgames/tudors.php). You can find this dollmaker on both their websites. The doll features, clothes, and accessories, as well as the background, are all customisable. While I chose these appearances for these dolls, all art and creative credits go to these two lovely people, of course!
> 
> Also, again, I cannot stress enough on the height difference!!! ;)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, apologies for the unintended delay! I'm barely finding time to write, and when I do, I've got at least three other things I'm writing, so yeah.
> 
> Second, and more importantly, _This fic is now smutty!!!!_ :0 I cannot stress on how incredible this is for me, since ALL my fics have a "No smut" tag on them!
> 
> So on that note, happy reading!

Levi was tossing and turning in her bed again. Insomnia was a burden she had long been accustomed to, and she knew when to give up on a losing battle. So she tiptoed out of the sleeping hall and made her way to the receiving room, intending to finish her letter to Kass.

She gathered her writing things from the shelves, and had just sat down to begin, when the door opened behind her. For a second, she felt a wild thrill of joy, but when she turned around her heart turned to lead.

“Unable to sleep, Lady Ackerman?”

Levi forced herself to nod. Lady Lobov, to her irritation, went and took a seat by the dying fire. “Something troubles you?”

Levi unclenched her jaw and thought fast. “I miss Isabel.”

“Of course.” Lady Lobov's clear grey eyes were shining. “The two of you were quite close.” She leaned forward as though she were deeply interested. “How is she faring? Has she written you yet from her new home?”

“She is happy,” Levi acknowledged. “The novelty of being a wife is keeping her occupied.”

“I'm sure,” Lady Lobov nodded. “Of course, there were rumours of Lord Church being not quite so… _inclined_ to married life.” A cold smile. “It is so nice to see he has proved his detractors wrong.”

“I know not what you speak of,” Levi muttered tersely.

“No? Well, his friends know him best, I suppose.” Lady Lobov fake-yawned. “And one _must_ congratulate Lady Isabel for doing the best she can with her _reduced_ circumstances.” Bizarrely, Lady Lobov fingered the hem of her robes just like Isabel used to. “She was destined for greatness, but -well. It is unfortunate that her fate includes the Church name and not something… _loftier_.”

The tip of Levi's quill dug into her finger. “I have always thought Isabel has been _fortunate_ to have Furlan in her fate.”

“Do you really believe he will be a good husband for her?” Lady Lobov scoffed.

“I do,” Levi said staunchly.

“Your loyalty recommends your character,” Lady Lobov nodded after a thoughtful pause. “But a word of advice, if I may, Lady Ackerman. You would do well to be more pragmatic in this Court. You will find, if you have not already, that nothing in this world is set in stone. Not friendships, not favour, not _love_ ,” Lady Lobov sneered the last word and Levi took her chance to cut in, “Not titles either.” Lady Lobov's face turned red and Levi continued smoothly, “Believe me, _my lady_ , that I am well aware of the transitory nature of this world.”

“Of course,” Lady Lobov muttered, all pretense of good humour gone. “I forgot you weren't _born_ a lady.”

“And now it appears you will not die one,” Levi said, closing her inkpot and standing up. “So we understand each other perfectly. Good night.”

Lady Lobov turned redder still, but said nothing more. She watched silently as Levi put her writing things away, and managed to throw in a last word before Levi retired to bed. “I would watch where I step, Lady Ackerman.” Her eyes lingered on the gold chain that encircled Levi's throat -a gift from the King she had been forced to wear at all times. Levi was disconcerted to see a similar chain on the other woman's neck as well. “So often these necklaces we wear are nooses. And when you have nothing to stand upon-” The Lady fingered her own chain and smiled - “the noose tightens.”

*

* * *

 

“The woman is incessant,” Erwin hissed, gripping the handle of her parasol tightly. “She is everywhere I look, all the time.”

“That's funny,” Levi muttered, swiping angrily at some wildflowers with her parasol. “She is everywhere _I_ look. I wonder what the secret to her trick is.”

“Perhaps it is easier for her because the two of you are always in each others’ company,” Lady Nan pointed out, amused.

Erwin, whose face was hidden from the rest of the world by her parasol, let her features contort into a frown. “You are not helping, Nana.”

“But why do you think Lady Lobov has this agenda against you?” Lady Nan pressed on curiously. Levi and Erwin exchanged a glance. “We have reason to believe she has recently obtained… leverage, of a sort, above us,” Erwin said finally.

Unexpectedly, Lady Nan sighed. “I was hoping you would be more cautious, Eliza. I thought you knew better.”

Levi stared at her, and Erwin snapped, “What on earth are you talking about, Nana?”

Lady Nan simply smiled and looked between the two of them. The meaning in her look could not be plainer. “I'm not blind, you know.”

Levi, to her horror, felt her cheeks flush, and she focused on the blades of grass they trod upon. Erwin was quiet for a moment, before stating flatly, “Miche told you.”

“Of course.” For the first time since she had known her, Lady Nan actually sounded _smug_. “You should have known he tells me everything.”

“I really should have,” Erwin grumbled.

“Wait,” Levi spoke up. “What do I not know? What did this Miche person tell you?”

“I have spoken to you of Lord Zacharias,” Erwin said cautiously.

“Yes,” Levi waved it away impatiently. “But what knowledge does _he_ possess?”

Erwin did not seem inclined to answer, so Lady Nan did. “Eliza has spoken of you to him. And, well, he told me. But worry not!” She added hastily, “Your secret is safe with me.”

Levi looked at Erwin, who sighed, and added, “They are betrothed.”

Levi's mind was reeling with all this new information about a man who supposedly knew everything she and Erwin were trying to keep secret, and the fact that Lady Nan, of all people, was in cohorts with him.

“I did not know you were betrothed.” She said, simply for the sake of saying _something_.

Lady Nan looked away. “Oh, we have been for many years now.” The mood had suddenly shifted, and Levi looked to Erwin once more for an explanation. Lady Nan noticed, and laughed humourlessly. “It's alright, Eliza. You see, Liv, Miche is a younger son, and his inheritance is dependent on a distant relative. Until he secures his future, I am not free to marry him.”

“And you are willing to just… wait?” Levi could not fathom it.

“Yes.” She shrugged. “We are both patient people. Our day will come, soon enough.”

Levi looked out at the stables, and thought of Isabel, who was far younger than any of them, and already married. She thought of her mother, who was perhaps Erwin's age when she died. She thought of Lady Lobov, older than them, a lady in nothing but her name.

Erwin's rough hand pressed her wrist gently and brought her back to the present. Levi gripped that hand, aching for more. Due to Lady Lobov's sudden ubiquity, she had not had a single moment alone with Erwin for a while now, and she felt the loss of her company acutely.

“I pray your patience is rewarded soon,” Levi muttered, and Lady Nan gave her a heartfelt “thank you”.

*

* * *

 

The King had been moody, distracted. Levi had, in the beginning, asked him archly why he hadn't asked for her in so long. The King had simply said that he had had enough of questions during the day, and that she would do well to hold her tongue now. She obeyed.

Levi herself was preoccupied by his bizarre behaviour on her way back from his chambers, and so was taken by surprise when a sudden hand grasped her and yanked her into a musty guest chamber.

“It's only me,” Erwin breathed against her lips and Levi pressed in to her embrace immediately, melding her mouth to hers, hands roving with feverish enthusiasm, giving back as much as she got.

“ _Oh_ , I _have_ missed you, my love,” Erwin sighed, stifling another groan as Levi peppered kisses down her jaw. “I hate - _mm_ \- I hate that… that I hardly get to see you-!” Her voice cut off with a sharp gasp when Levi bit into the hollow between neck and collarbone.

“Shut up,” Levi hissed, already grabbing her hand and reaching between her legs. “Shut up and fuck me.”

Erwin seemed ready to do just that, but she stilled. Levi bit back a growl. “What?”

Erwin’s eyes were wide. “You're not… you didn't…”

Levi was reminded with a jolt of where she was returning from, and blurted, “He was… distracted. Didn't-”

“-finish,” Erwin said when she hesitated. “Something similar happened with me the other day.”

They looked silently at each other in the dark.

“Should we be worried?” Levi asked when the silence stretched too long.

Erwin pondered a moment before answering. “Not yet,” she whispered finally. “Not for now.” She reached behind Levi and clenched her fingers on her behind. “For now… let it not concern us.”

Levi buried her face at her neck with a sigh. “Good,” she murmured, and gently licked the mark her bite had left on Erwin's pristine skin, revelling in the shudder she felt pass through her body.

*

* * *

 

Levi had been braced for an accusation of some sort from Lady Lobov, even blackmail, but was surprised when neither came to pass. She was itching to confer with Erwin, but they had had practically no private moments since Isabel's wedding day. Even that one tryst when Levi was returning from the King's chambers had been brief and devoid of almost any conversation: they had made love sloppily, biting down on their fists to avoid making any noise, and in the end, Erwin had left her with an abrupt, desperate kiss, telling her that “ _she_ would come investigating” and asking her to wait twenty minutes before returning to the Queen's quarters. Levi hated it; having to play at cloak and dagger was bad enough, doing it with an audience was worse.

Their reprieve came nearly two weeks later, when Lady Nan came to their aid, and announced her intention to take some of the ladies on a picnic at her family estate, which was not very far away. They would leave at dawn and return at dusk, and Levi felt she could almost sing for joy when the Queen agreed.

“The ladies have been a little dull of late, Your Majesty,” Lady Nan said in her agreeable voice as Levi watched intently. “The… _incident_ with Lord Lobov, and the unexpected departure of Lady Magnolia -forgive me, Lady Church now -has surely affected our spirits.”

The Queen stroked her pet cat pensively, nodding. “And you think this picnic would help?”

“It is only my humble opinion, Majesty.”

“Hmm. You have certainly given me to think, my dear.” The Queen smirked. “And to have chosen the day I am to spend with my children -are you implying it is _my_ company that is bringing your spirits down?”

Lady Nan looked appropriately horrified. “Your Majesty, I _never_ -”

The Queen waved her protests away with a laugh. “I was only jesting! By all means, show my ladies around your home.”

Lady Nan bowed her head, “Your Majesty is magnanimous indeed.” Then, with a pause, and an expression that made her look prettily concerned, she continued, “Your Majesty, if may seek your advice…”

“Yes?”

“Would it be terribly rude to not invite Lady Lobov to this picnic?” Levi’s finger slipped and she nearly pricked her finger. Lady Nan continued hurriedly, “Oh! -I do not mean to sound awful, but -she _is_ in mourning. It is very sad indeed, I cannot imagine her pain and grief at the moment, but…” She wrung her hands like a child. “I believe the mood of the picnic will be contrary to her own, and, well, the ladies may not be that… _willing_ to openly enjoy themselves out of respect for her feelings. I would certainly feel uncomfortable doing something so _cheerful_ at such a grim time for her.” Lady Nan peeked up at the Queen through her eyelashes. “Is it too terrible of me to want that, my liege?”

Levi watched, in turn fascinated and disgusted. She knew Lady Nan to be a steady, sensible, mature woman, but here she was, putting up an impressive act of childish innocence and meekness. Levi could never bring herself to pretend to be that guileless, but she could not deny the success of her efforts.

“No, no, child.” The Queen nodded graciously. “You have reason to think thus, and I must admit, I agree with you. I shall take Nikita with me: the poor woman will benefit from a day spent with the little ones. You may proceed with your plans.”

And so proceed they did, on a day that seemed to promise fine weather. There were more than a dozen ladies in the entourage, which Levi was deeply thankful for, as she was planning to steal some time alone with Erwin, and the others would be less likely to miss them in a large group. To her pleasant surprise, Lady Nan led both her and Erwin away after their picnic lunch, telling them of an empty cottage one of their farmers had recently vacated, and slipping a key into a beaming Erwin’s outstretched hand.

Sometimes, Levi could not herself believe how fortunate she was in her choice of friends.

*

* * *

 

The late afternoon sun threw slanting rays into the cottage, lending a mellow glow to everything, turning Erwin golden.

 _You’re so beautiful_.

Levi had lost count of the number of times Erwin had told her that, in the midst of their passion or in sly whispers thrown at her as they passed each other in the corridors. Levi always ignored it, moved past it, convinced Erwin was only saying it because it was the conventional thing to say, certain that of all the things in the world, _beautiful_ was something she never had been, never could be.

But Erwin was. _God_ , she was stunning, especially now, when she looked up at her with those gleaming eyes, her golden hair splayed on the pillow behind her like a halo, her pure lust as naked and bared to Levi as the rest of her was. Such enchanting beauty could hardly be real, but here she was beneath her, warm and glowing and moaning, her rough palms clamping onto Levi’s hips, pushing her into heightening ecstacy and pulling her into her intoxicating presence; until nothing remained of the world but for the two of them, moving in the same rhythm, breathing the same air, the mingling of their breathless voices the most beautiful duet she had ever heard.

Levi had never considered herself a coward, but she had no other word for it -she wished she were brave enough to tell Erwin, to compliment her, to worship her, to give her every bit of sunshine she deserved -she, a being of brightness and jewelled halls. But Levi was a creature of dark alleys and stinking gutters, unknown and unwieldy, an icicle in human form, sharp and crude and deadly, and Erwin deserved _so much more-_

“You’re so beautiful,” Erwin gasped, her nails digging into Levi’s skin. “Oh, _god_ , my Levi, _my_ Levi, you’re just so _perfect_... ”

Levi’s fingers tightened on Erwin’s calf. “No,” she said roughly, and, locking her eyes with Erwin’s, leaned down and left a shaky, wet kiss on the ankle that rested on her shoulder. “You are.” She rocked her hips faster, and wheezed over Erwin’s loud moan, “you’re so _fucking_ beautiful, I - _fuck_ -I -”

It felt different. It felt like ages since that first night she and Erwin had spent together, and yet, the surge of emotions she felt this golden afternoon was frighteningly new. Perhaps it was because it had been so long since the last time they were alone. Perhaps it was the novelty of being together like this in the middle of the day with no one in their vicinity, with the sun warming their skin and no need to check their voices. Perhaps it was because of that deeply meaningful moment they had had in the chapel on Isabel’s wedding day.

Or perhaps it was simply because it was Erwin, and she was reason enough for Levi to even breathe.

“I -I love you!” Levi cried again and again and again in her final throes, because Erwin _had_ to hear, _had_ to understand how these words came from her very _core_ -and Levi collapsed, feeling as if something long locked in her chest was finally set free, delighted and devastated at the same time,  a strange aching emptiness growing in her heart. And Erwin, lovely Erwin, whose eyes had screwed shut and mouth had opened in a perfect circle, simply yanked her down and kissed her, mingling the tears on their cheeks, sharing their sobs, their sighs, and turning them into smiles.

And just like that, Levi's heart had never felt so full.

*

* * *

 

“I wish we could do this more often,” Levi whispered, nuzzling her nose into Erwin’s throat.

“Me too,” Erwin murmured back, carding her fingers gently through Levi’s hair.

They were quiet again for a while, simply revelling in the pleasure of lying spent in each other’s arms. Levi tried to think of when she could be with Erwin next, and the uncertainty of their future made her grit her teeth. Erwin stopped brushing her hair. “Levi?”

Levi’s fingers curled into a loose fist on her chest. “What is that bitch playing at? What does she want?”

Neither of them had to say her name. Levi could almost hear Erwin’s thoughts churning.

Her words were unexpected. “It’s my fault.”

Levi looked up at her. “What?”

Erwin let out a harsh sigh. “Lady Lobov is more powerful than you think. Her family has always been very politically involved and she has many connections and allies. I’m sure that is apparent to you in any case, for she is the only handmaiden without a title that serves the Queen. If it were you or me, and our titles were stripped from us, we would not have been welcome at Court any longer.”

Levi nodded, frowning. Erwin continued, “A few years ago, I obtained a letter she had once written as a young woman. I will not burden you with the knowledge of what exactly she wrote and to whom. Suffice to say, she described our Queen in not so pleasant a manner, in the years when the King and Queen were only betrothed, and Lady Lobov was angling to break their betrothal.”

“What?” Levi gasped.

Erwin smirked. “Oh yes. Had our King not been pressed to find a foreign Princess as his consort, Lady Lobov was the first choice of wife offered to him. I told you, the Lobovs are a very important family.”

All Levi could think of was the easy manner in which her blade had sliced through Lord Lobov’s throat, how he had been her easiest kill compared to the uncouth lowlifes her uncle used to set her upon. Erwin, in that inexplicable way of hers, seemed to read her mind.

“You injured their position at Court to a great extent when you killed her brother,” she said. “Even now they are hunting for his killer. I would genuinely be concerned for your welfare if you were not a woman. No one will think to look for the killer in the Queen’s court.” There was a satisfied lilt to her tone and Levi looked at her curiously. “Is that why you approved of my actions? Because of the strike to their power in Court?”

“It was one of many reasons,” Erwin admitted, “but Isabel’s security reigned above the others.”

Levi ducked her head down and looked at their intertwined hands, at the visible bumps and patches on Erwin’s hands: the hands of a menial servant...  but the mind of a courtier.

“Does that displease you?” Erwin asked her softly and Levi quickly shook her head no. “Tell me about the letter.”

Erwin began to stroke her hair again. “As soon as I verified the authenticity of that letter, I made it known to her that I possessed it. She had at that point been trying to get herself situated as the King’s official Mistress. Because of my threat, she had to cease her efforts.”

Levi’s head was reeling. “Why did you not want her…?”

“Think to yourself, Levi, the power the Countess wields. True, it is nowhere close to the Queen’s influence. True, any sort of advice she offers is tainted by her being a woman, being simply the King’s object of pleasure. But she could achieve so much, gain so much from her whims and wishes, if she were clever about it.” A pause. “Nikita Lobov could be clever about it.”

Levi breathed out slowly. “And now?”

“And now, the Countess is ill,” Erwin said solemnly. “The word among the servants is that she will not last long.” She let out a small sigh. “So, very soon, the King will look for a new Mistress. The covetous position is right there for the taking, and this time, Lady Lobov means to take it.”

Realisation finally washed over Levi in a cold wave. “But this time, that letter is not leverage enough above her because then she will disclose the truth about… us.”

Erwin stilled, and was quiet for so long Levi looked up to read her expression. Her heavy brows were twisted in remorse. “I am sorry, Levi, so terribly sorry for dragging you into this mess. I have long known that that woman would seek to exploit any weakness I had, and -and I told you long ago that you are mine.” She turned wide, pleading eyes to her. “I am so sorry that I made you mine.”

She ought to be enraged. She ought to care that she, Levi Ackerman, ill-equipped for and indifferent to any sort of drama and intrigue, had been placed right in the middle of this power struggle. But she only cared for Erwin, and she only cared to wipe that look off of her face.

“Do not lessen my own attractive qualities in an effort to blame yourself,” Levi drawled, bringing up their linked hands to press her lips onto her fingers. “I am beside you through anything.” A sudden lump rose in her throat. “For better or for worse.”

Erwin always had a way with words, and so this was one of the rarer moments when she seemed to be dumbstruck. “You are _wonderful_.”

Levi smiled. “I know.” She kissed her hand again. “So tell me. How do we stop the woman? By recommending someone else in her place?” Erwin nodded slowly, and Levi asked, “Who?”

Erwin’s gaze flitted away. “Me.”

At this, Levi could do nothing but stare at her. Erwin practically rushed into explanation. “I was not ready before, but I am now. Don’t you see, Levi, how perfect a role it would be for me? I do not have to marry, I do not have to worry about the petty politics in the Queen’s chambers. I will have direct access to the King’s ear without any Queenly responsibilities like -like _bearing heirs_. I will have position, power, income and influence. I will be able to do so much, accomplish so much-”

“Accomplish?” Levi repeated hollowly.

“I can do it,” Erwin insisted, her eyes flashing. “I can make things happen, I can bring about change, I can serve the people-”

“By becoming the King’s Mistress,” Levi clarified. Erwin’s look darkened. “Did you know we nearly went to war last year?”

This threw Levi. “What?”

“You know there was some unrest in the South. Some lords there were trying to secede from our kingdom and join the neighbours. The King was furious. Everyone thought we would have to wage a war.”

Levi thought back to the previous year, when she had heard the rumours from her run-down manor, struggling to tend to her lands with a drought in full force. War would have forced able workers into battle. The fields would have been untended. She could have lost everything.

Erwin swept on, “I spoke to the Queen. Not outright, but a little statement here, a hint there - ‘Oh, what a pity we could not order that dish from the kitchens! I suppose the drought really _is_ bad in the country!’ Or, ‘I think we should reuse the older drapes, Your Majesty, for if the silk districts are taken away; better to have old silk drapes than _none_ at all!’ Oh, I was incessant! I don’t know if that was all it took, probably not, but the Queen spoke to the King, and a treaty was made with the Southern lords. It worked.”

Levi stared at her, remembering Lady Nan’s innocent act to get her way. Erwin’s was similar, but not quite -she spoke with confidence, as though she knew exactly what was going on, and exactly what to expect, and that one would do well to heed her words.

“I can do it, Levi,” she murmured, deflating suddenly. “I am meant to play the part.”

Levi had by now seen many faces of Erwin. She had seen her smiling and coquettish with the men. She had seen her devoted and earnest in her administrations to the Queen. She had seen her easy charm and camaraderie in her male get-up. She had seen her moaning, and sighing and smiling for her, with her, in their most intimate moments. But now she saw her firm jaw, her endlessly deep, determined blue eyes, and realised that this - _this_ was Erwin’s true form: a terribly beautiful creature of purpose and ambition. A woman to make history.

Levi swallowed hard, and said the first thing that came to her mind.

“You'd make a good Queen.”

“I'd make a _terrible_ Queen,” Erwin said immediately, then her look softened. She leaned in and pressed her lips onto Levi's forehead and murmured, “I like scandals far too much."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay, so it's not *very* smutty I guess? But it's my personal best guys, and I will NOT shut up about it!! :)
> 
> So, hopefully that whole discussion with Erwin about Lady Lobov made sense, and wasn't too rambling. Lady Lobov is going to feature quite a bit in the story going forward, so I feel like this was required. Also, Erwin is a devious bastard no matter what gender or AU, just as Levi is always a scary violent creature. Dangerous Eruris are my fave!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVEN'T ABANDONED THIS!
> 
> Really, I'm very very sorry for the delay. I have been struggling over this chapter for a while. I honestly wanted to add more to this chapter because I definitely have the next bit mapped out in my head, but I just couldn't move past what I've written so far. :/
> 
> So it is with great regret that I must tell you that there aren't any sexy times ahead in the chapter. Sorry. I'll make it up to you guys in the next one I promise. <3
> 
> Happy reading!

In the days following the picnic at Lady Nan’s, Levi kept a close eye on Lady Lobov and was forced to admit Erwin was right. Preoccupied as she had been with other matters, Levi hadn't really paid attention to the woman before. But now, she could truly see how firmly she was entrenched amidst the politics of the Court.

Most of the younger, newer handmaidens looked up to Lady Lobov as an elder sister of sorts, enabling her to acquire something like an inner circle within the Queen's own circle. The only reason Levi hadn't been a part of that group was because neither she nor Lady Lobov had thought the other worth her company.

Lady Lobov was now ingratiating herself into courtly society with a vengeance. Her demeanour seemed to be a cross between those of Lady Nan and Erwin's: demure, yet solemn, dainty, and yet stately. It was infuriating to watch her interact with the other members of the Court, always dressed in the most exquisite black mourning veils that suited her complexion very nicely. Levi wondered how she was paying for all the finery.

Erwin, for her part, was unchanged in her demeanour, but she did begin to spend less time with the other Handmaidens (and consequently Levi) and more time with the men. Levi tried hard not to begrudge her for this change in behaviour. Her ambitions had now been laid bare to her, and Levi resenting her actions at this time would be the meanest possible betrayal.

Still, she was not too happy. Lady Nan, now confirmed to be a trusted confidante, took it upon herself to keep her company. Levi was grateful, to be sure, especially now after Isabel's departure from court. And yet… she sorely missed Erwin. She was seeing so little of her these days.

“Liv?” Levi started and looked up from the sweetly ungrammatical letter that Kass had written her. Lady Nan was looking at her, her expression somehow kinder than usual.

“Yes?”

“Would you like to take a turn around the gardens with me? It's a fine day to spend outside.”

The tone of her voice was too close to pity, and Levi couldn't bear it. But before she could give her a sullen negative, Lady Nan continued, “As a matter of fact, Miche -that is to say, Lord Zacharias, my intended, you know -well, he is visiting Court today… Would you like to join us for a walk?”

Levi stared at the normally sedate Lady Nan blushing like a teenager in love. It was adorable. It made her heart yearn for Erwin.

“I… thank you, but I shouldn't like to intrude,” said she cautiously.

“Oh, you wouldn't be doing anything of the sort!” Lady Nan said instantly, regaining some of her composure. “I would not have asked you if that were the case, my dear, fear not. And anyway, he has been very curious to meet you.” She smiled. “He and Eliza were childhood friends, you know.”

Somehow it felt like an interrogation was due for her, but Levi found that she didn't mind. This would be an opportunity for her to learn about her lover as well.

“Alright,” she nodded, and folded away Kass’ letter.

*

* * *

 

Lord Zacharias was an _enormous_ man. He was taller than the average man, and bulkier, too. Levi, always on the shorter end of the female spectrum, felt incredibly dwarfed in his presence. She did not relish the feeling.

He had to bend more than half his height to bow over her hand. “Lady Ackerman,” said he, and his voice was deep and rumbling, “a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.” What a mountain of a man.

“Likewise,” Levi muttered, curtseying. Lady Nan was watching them with a mix of amusement and satisfaction. “Shall we?” Wordlessly, Levi and the giant fell into step on either side of Lady Nan, and they began their promenade.

They spoke of inconsequential things for a while, with Levi's companions bearing the brunt of the conversation. They touched upon the weather (as one will), courtly gossip, and the well-being of Lord Zacharias’ family and estate, in that order. Levi was content to be just the listener for the last part, her eyes fixed on the palace where she knew Erwin, along with Lady Lobov, was accompanying the Queen in her weekly hearings.

“What on earth are those girls doing?” Lady Nan sighed presently, and Levi followed her gaze to see a few of the younger Handmaidens egging each other to climb onto an old pear tree.

“Honestly, they are behaving like _children_ ,” Lady Nan said disapprovingly.

“They _are_ children, Nana,” Lord Zacharias said gently.

“No, they are part of the Queen's Court and must know to behave as such a position demands,” she responded. With another exasperated sigh, she stepped off the path. “Do continue without me, you two. I will deal with the girls and join you as soon as I am able.”

Before either of her companions could reply, Lady Nan swept off in the direction of the rambunctious girls, ever the picture of grace even in disapproval.

“The excuse hardly seemed contrived, did it not?” Lord Zacharias said presently. Levi glanced at him, and saw a small smile beneath his scraggly moustache. She gave vent to a small snort and agreed, “Nothing she does ever seems contrived.”

“One of the many things I admire about her,” he said with a sort of pleasant frankness that met Levi's approval. He offered her his arm, which she took, and they continued their stroll as bidden by Lady Nan.

They were silent for a while, but it was not uncomfortable, and Levi was content to let her mind wander. When he spoke, she had to jolt back to the present. “And how do you find the courtly life, Lady Ackerman?”

“It is… interesting. There is never a dull moment.”

“I can believe that.” Then, with a wider grin, “Especially with Eliza around.”

Levi glanced up at him. “You know her well.”

Lord Zacharias simply shrugged. “I am her closest friend.” His eyes met hers and he amended, “At least, I was, until she met you.”

Levi turned away, feeling her cheeks turn warm, and a sudden happy thrill in her chest. “How long have you known her?” She asked and was glad to find her voice remained steady.

“It feels like forever,” Lord Zacharias said contemplatively. “I believe she was almost twelve when I first met her, precocious for her age. She became our ringleader of sorts in weeks.I have never since seen a girl more bent on the idea of becoming a soldier as she had been.”

Levi almost stumbled. “A _soldier_?”

Lord Zacharias had on a wry smile. “She was driven by the notion of returning to her birthplace and fighting her father's murderers. In vain did her mother and stepfather try to convince her otherwise.”

Levi saw a flash of a memory -Erwin's calm face in the dimly lit room at the inn, her flat, emotionless tone as she spoke of her father.

“She insisted on joining Will in the outdoor lessons that we shared. William, her stepbrother, the current Lord Smith,” he added when he saw the look on Levi's face, “was a close playmate of us Zacharias boys. Never did we imagine that he would have a stepsister who would grow infinitely more dear to our hearts. We all adored Eliza, you see.” He smiled fondly. “She had to try hard, but eventually she could hold her own in horseriding, swordfights…”

“What changed?” Levi asked in the ensuing pause.

“She grew older. She found that she was already blessed with a far more potent weapon -her beauty. And,” here his expression turned grim, “she found out that our country had signed a treaty with hers. It is still held by the revolutionaries, and so there would be no wars against the murderers for her to participate in.”

Levi turned away again, focusing on single blades of grass they walked past. She remembered the ambitious gleam in Erwin’s eyes, the fervent lilt of her voice as she spoke of serving the people. Levi could not begin to imagine the disappointment young Erwin had felt.

“And now here we are,” she murmured when she realised Lord Zacharias was waiting for her to speak.

“Here we are,” he agreed.

They were silent again, until he asked it, the inevitable question. “What about you, Lady Ackerman?”

“What about me?” She stalled.

“What brought you to Court?”

Levi didn't hesitate. “Money,” she said frankly.

He did not seem surprised at all. “Yes, I knew that.” Before she could remark on that response, he swept on, “Perhaps I should've phrased my question differently. What makes you stay at Court? Will there ever be a day when you've accumulated enough riches?” He raised a shaggy eyebrow. “Or is there no such thing as 'enough money’ for you?”

“Excuse me?” Levi stopped abruptly, certain she had misheard him. When he made no correction, she glared up at him. “I am no fortune hunter,” she hissed.

“Forgive me if I do not take your word for it,” said he, not sounding apologetic at all. “We are all opportunists in our own way, after all. So what are _you_ angling to exploit?”

“You are insolent,” she said flatly, disengaging her arm from his.

“For a creature of the Court, I should think so,” he agreed, with a glint in his eyes that she did _not_ approve of.

“You think you know me so well,” she spat. “You know _nothing_.”

“I was there the day Eliza met you, you know,” he said unexpectedly, and Levi froze. In her mind's eye, she was trying remember, to look within her memories and see if he spoke the truth. She felt dismay spread through her when she realised he was right.

He _had_ been there.

She had been desperate, sleepless, starving. She had been wearing her mother's one remaining silk dress everyday for a week. A week she had spent clamouring, begging, and threatening for an audience with the Queen. The guards at the gates had turned her back each day, saying that the Queen was no longer attending public courts, jeering at her faded clothes, her rough appearance.

She was running out of money to pay for her room at the seedy inn. It was to be her last day in town, after which she would have no choice but to go back and watch Kass starve to nothingness. She had been trying to make the guards look at her mother's faded letter, at the Ackerman signet ring -the only trinket her mother had passed down to her. One of the guards had tried to snatch the ring from her with a loud guffaw of “an extra pint at the tavern” and she had _snapped_.

The two guards were eating dust in seconds and more were coming running from inside the palace grounds when _she_ swept in -Lady Eliza Smith, with all her finery and every inch of her commanding presence, had come to stand between her and the guards. Levi had only absently noticed the gaggle of handmaidens and courtiers that were entering the palace; some of them were loitering and watching the spectacle, most of them were completely involved with themselves as they glided through the gates.

Only Eliza - _Erwin_ -had stepped forward.

Somehow, Levi had managed to hold her cussing tongue and explained the situation to her. Even now Levi could remember clearly the way Erwin’s eyes had gleamed as she read her mother's letter, the shamelessly interested glance she had cast upon Levi's form. Erwin had told off the guards, threatened to have them punished for trying to steal from a noblewoman, and practically had them quaking in their boots as they bowed Levi into the palace. And before she knew it, she had got her audience with the Queen.

Erwin had more or less saved her life on that day. And now Levi remembered the tall silhouette of Lord Zacharias in the small group of observing courtiers.

“Is that it, then?” She muttered presently, shaking herself from her reminiscing. “You think I don't belong here. You think I'm filth, the rabble of the street and I don't deserve finery, is that it?” Anger was spiking in her again. “You think only those born to wealth must keep it, the poor can rot in the gutters for all you care, as long as you have that silver spoon you were born with stuck in your mouth-”

“You're wrong,” he interrupted her, his face slowly turning red; it seemed she had struck a nerve. “I am the last person to think so of you.”

“Could've fooled me-”

“I don't think you don't deserve finery, I think you don't deserve _Eliza_.”

Levi's tirade died on her lips and she stared at his grim face for a long moment.

His face, if anything, was redder. “She is _special_. I've known that from the minute I met her. She is clever, and brave, and one of the most steadfast people I have ever known.”

“I _know_ ,” Levi growled.

He raised a shaggy eyebrow. “Do you, really? Do you have any idea how big her heart is, how many times she has had to mend it? Do you know how many times she has had to build herself up from the ground, again and again-”

“Miche.”

Both Levi and Lord Zacharias had been so involved in their conversation, they never realised when they had company. Both of them whipped around to see an unusually solemn Lady Nan, and -Erwin herself, her face an inscrutable mask. There was silence for a long moment where none of them spoke.

“When you said you wanted to talk to Liv,” said Erwin finally, her voice suspiciously soft, “I had hoped it would be with the intention of befriending her.”

Lord Zacharias drew himself up, proud and guiltless. “I only wanted to make sure her character was true.”

“And you think I am incapable of judging that for myself?” Erwin was still calm, but Levi could see the hard glint in her eyes.

He said nothing, and that in itself was a pointed response. Erwin set her jaw and her lips thinned. “You know nothing about her, can understand nothing about her because you speak from a position of privilege, of bias. You cannot begin to imagine the conditions from which Liv has raised herself up. You do not know the depth of her devotion, her immeasurable fortitude, her unflinching loyalty-”

“Erwin.” Levi whispered, taking her hand in hers. Erwin glanced at her, and the frost in her eyes seemed to melt a little. She turned back to the silent Lord Zacharias. “Liv is the strongest person I know,” she said clearly, and narrowed her eyes before repeating, “The _strongest_.”

The statement was simple enough but it seemed to hold a special significance for the two old friends. Lord Zacharias looked taken aback, blinking his wide eyes rapidly.

“I will speak to you again when you are ready to apologise to her,” Erwin said, and turned away abruptly. Levi's hand was still in hers and she was forced to follow, trying not to glance back at the friends they had abandoned so suddenly.

They were quiet for a while, with Levi's hand automatically hooking at the crook of Erwin’s elbow, their paces falling into the same rhythm from ease of habit.

“How were the hearings?” Levi asked at length, and Erwin let out a soft sigh.

“Dull as doldrums. There is no real change happening at these sessions. It is simply a ceremony put in place to appease the people.” Her frustration was evident in her tone. “No real problems are brought before the Queen. The pressing, important ones are always preemptively redirected to the ministers and, if it is important enough, the King.” She huffed out another sigh. “All men.”

Levi glanced at her and saw her thick eyebrows slanting in an angry frown. “All thinking they know better, that they alone can see through to the truth of things, that their judgement is always the right one-”

“Erwin,” Levi murmured again, and brought up her other hand to hold her wrist. “He meant well.”

Erwin in turn placed her hand on top of hers. “He insulted you.”

“He did,” Levi affirmed. “But he only did it because he wants the best for you. He doesn't want you hurt.”

Erwin’s eyes flicked around in a quick, discreet glance, and then, seemingly satisfied, she moved her hand to Levi's cheek instead.

“I wish he could see you for what you truly are,” Erwin whispered, her rough thumb stroking her lower lip.

Levi's grip tightened on her arm. “He will, eventually. I'm a delight, after all.”

The corners of Erwin's lips twitched. “I love you.”

Levi turned to press a quick kiss on the hand on her cheek. “From the bottom of my heart,” she nodded, returning her reluctant smile.

*

* * *

 

“Good evening, Lady Ackerman,” said a familiar voice and Levi looked up from her book to see Lady Darlett standing in front of her. “May I join you?”

“Certainly,” Levi nodded because that was the right thing to say; her unenthusiastic tone belied her true feelings.

“Lady Smith is quite busy these days,” Lady Darlett said, sitting down next to Levi.

Levi grit her teeth, but kept her head bent over her book. “Yes.” Erwin was, in fact, not in the Palace at all, for she had accompanied the King and Queen (along with Lady Lobov, of _course_ ) on their yearly pilgrimage to an obscure country shrine. She had already been gone two days, and was not expected for three days more. Needless to say, Levi missed her terribly.

“It is a busy time at the Court this year, to be sure,” Lady Darlett continued conversationally. “I hear the Deutsch ambassador is due to visit soon.”

“How exciting,” Levi intoned.

“Isn't it?” Lady Darlett smoothened the pleats of her gown, seemingly unaware of Levi's growing apathy. “I do hope we all get the opportunity to interact with the envoy. I wish I remembered my Deutsch lessons -I have not had to practice it for years! Do you speak Deutsch, Lady Ackerman?”

“Yes.” Levi gave her the short answer.

“How nice for you! Well, in that case, may I ask a favour of you?”

Levi simply looked up from her book and waited for her to go on, trying to make up excuses in her mind.

“Would you help me chuse a book to practice from? I'm certain your superior knowledge will help me…” Lady Darlett's words trailed away at the look on Levi's face. “Is something wrong?”

Levi blinked and shook her head. “Come. We will go directly.” She stood up abruptly and Lady Darlett hurried to follow her. Internally, Levi could not but wonder at the sudden shift in Lady Darlett's behaviour. She had never been friendly to her -and she still was not, to be sure. But she was much more civil than she had ever been, and Levi could not begin to explain it.

They lingered over the books for a while, as Levi tried to find a book she knew. None of the few faded books she had learnt from were present in the Queen's collection. Fortunately, she found a tome she knew -a treatise on piety she had found incredibly tedious, but one with a good range of grammar to practice upon.

She turned to Lady Darlett, but before she could say a word, the other lady exclaimed, “Oh, I know this one! I had thought Lady Smith had claimed it for herself, she never let go of it.”

Levi leaned forward curiously, her own selection forgotten. It was a little collection of poetry, and Lady Darlett was right; she had often seen Erwin thumb through the book. She was just as surprised to find it here -surely it was the same copy Erwin read from…

It was not in Deutsch, though, and Levi cleared her throat. “This one will help,” she said, handing her book to Lady Darlett, who accepted it with so much delight Levi almost scowled again. Why was she being so nice?

She waited until Lady Darlett left the shelves, then, almost guiltily, she drew out the book of poems. It _was_ the same book Erwin used to read from, and for some reason, she felt anxiety at finding it in the public shelves again.

She flipped through the book - and nearly gasped aloud when a small folded scrap of parchment fluttered out. She grabbed at it instantly, for she had already seen the bold ‘ _L_ ’ inscribed on top of it. Heart pounding, she fingered the edge-

“Liv?”

Levi whipped around, hands behind her back, crumpling the note into her fist. Lady Nan stood at the doorway, a troubled expression on her face.

“Yes?” Levi prompted her when she said nothing.

“I…” Lady Nan hesitated, then took a deep breath. “I would like to apologise on behalf of-”

“He can apologise to me himself,” Levi cut in. At that, Lady Nan looked so distressed that Levi softened her look. “I don't hold it against him, if it helps.” She paused, then thought it important to add, “And certainly not against you.”

Lady Nan looked genuinely shocked. “You… do not hate me?”

Levi frowned. “Why would I hate you?”

“Why?” She let out a bark of discordant laughter. “Because it was _my_ intended that insulted you so dreadfully!”

“Exactly.” Levi raised an eyebrow. “They were your _intended's_ words. Not yours.”

Lady Nan looked dumbstruck. “You… you truly mean it?”

Levi tutted impatiently. “Of course.”

Lady Nan took a hesitant step forward, then two -then to Levi's shock, she actually _curtsied_. The book dropped from Levi's hand behind her back and she leaped forward.

“What are you doing?” She hissed, managing to slip the note up her sleeve as she drew Lady Nan up by her shoulders. To her shock, she realised Lady Nan's eyes were glimmering with unshed tears, despite the smile on her face.

“My mother taught me that to curtsey is to show the expression of your deepest respect. I have not often meant it in this court, but _you_ have earned my unending respect, Liv.” Lady Nan held her hands and squeezed them warmly. “You are a lady through and through. Eliza is a fortunate creature indeed.”

Levi, still frowning, shook her head, feeling an embarrassed blush creep up her neck. “I have done nothing.”

“And you are all the more marvellous for it.” Lady Nan let out a little laugh, and blinked rapidly to clear her brimming eyes. “And my Miche is a fool to have not seen it.”

“He does not know me.”

“Well, I do. Eliza does. That ought to suffice for him.” She took a deep breath and nodded, suddenly determined. “I will speak to him, as well as Eliza. They are both being ridiculous and immature by letting this argument fester between them.”

Levi felt a smile twist her lips. “You of all people should be able to convince them.”

“I am heartened by your faith in me.” She looked truly touched, and Levi glanced away, uncomfortable once more.

“Well,” another warm squeeze of her hands, “I shall leave you now. It is an honour to be your friend, Lady Ackerman.”

Levi's smile widened. “Likewise, Lady Nan.”

She laughed, properly this time. “To you, my dear, I am simply Nana.”

*

* * *

 

Levi could only find five minutes to herself at the end of the day, just before everyone was due to retire to bed. Hurrying to the empty washroom, she extracted the little note from the folds of her gown and held it up to the torch to finally read it.

_Mine own sweetheart,_

_Would that you were in mine arms, or I in yours, for I think it long since I kissed you._

_Written by the hand of him who is and always will be yours,_

_E._

She read it again and again until she could recite each word in her sleep, then set it afire.

And for the first time in days, Levi slept a good night's sleep. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the semi-flashback and bonus Erwin history wasn't too much. I wasn't very sure about the infodump Mike/Miche was giving tbh, but since this is totally Levi's POV, I wanted y'all to learn more about Erwin just as she does.
> 
> A word on "Deutsch": As I have mentioned in my notes on chapter one, this fic is not historically or even real life accurate. There is no France or England or Germany, as far as this story is concerned. I simply wanted to add a foreign nation / language to the story, so yes, the "Deutsch" here is not actual German from our universe. :)
> 
> Also, the letter, omg the letter! Guys, guys, I didn't write that. Every word in that letter was literally picked from several love letters that real life Henry VIII wrote to real life Anne Boleyn. [Yes, really.](https://www.theanneboleynfiles.com/resources/anne-boleyn-words/henry-viiis-love-letters-to-anne-boleyn/)
> 
> I have deliberated a lot over posting this chapter, so I would really appreciate what you thought of it!
> 
> EDIT: The very lovely [HoshisamaValmor / HannibalCatharsis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannibalCatharsis/pseuds/HoshisamaValmor) made the above beautiful art of my Handmaiden Eruris!! This is the first fanart I have ever received on any of my stories and I love it so much!! Check out their profile/tumblr for more amazing stories and art!

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said, I have never written anything like this before, so please let me know what you think, either as a comment down below, or come yell at me on [my Tumblr](https://elivra-fanfiction.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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